"seclude" poems
Young athlete who just joined the game
Keep your hopes high while running low
Towards success must be your aim
For you to wend, for you to go
E’en if you lose, e’en if you drop
Trodden by feet of rivalry
Get right back up and never stop
And win this race with chivalry
Ne’er seclude yourself, ne’er be coy
Don’t take in vain each accolade
Don’t be too scared, don’t over joy
And don’t let worthy honor fade
Never go blind with dark distress
Nor deaf with roars of losing so
Young athlete, don’t apply duress
But keep dreams high while running low
And even if you go too deep
Down the path you should not have set
Your worthy honor always keep
With bravery, ne’er with regret
Keep running on, keep running still
At the far end, light you will see
Keep running with force, if you will
You will soon grasp bright victory
And don’t let such grand rewards go
But don’t keep them so you may boast
Keep your dreams high while running low
And keep on trying if you lost
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
#
*
My mother lied to me today
When I found out I had to say
Oh Mother why’d you tell a lie
and from me this thing try to hide?
With a coy smile she looked at me
and spoke in a voice so softly
My dearest son it is my job
to keep you safe, away from harm
At times that may in fact include
in order to hide or seclude
the things in life you should not see
because you’re simply not ready
You may discover on your own
Much later in life when you're grown
But when you're underneath my wing
Your one concern is just to sing
Life’s worries I will take for you
The stress and hurt I will shield too
Life asks a lot and has its pains
and slowly these things you’ll be trained
But in due time; Have patience son
Life's not a race, no need to run
So take your time; stop and enjoy
One day you will not be a boy
Out in the world; learn on your own
Keep with you all the things I've shown
And piece by piece on each you'll build
For you I wish a life fulfilled
There is still much you need to learn
I shield from you all the concerns
It's somewhat understandable
You might be slightly gullible
Because you're simply not aware
So many things from you I've spared
Allowed you distance as you grew
But always kept an eye on you
I gave you room to let you fly
To stretch your wings; explore the sky
And you may not have seen me there
but I did not just disappear
No matter the heights you could reach
I always had more I could teach
So even though at times it seemed
Untethered and were not a team
Could not be further from the truth
Clark Kent changing in a phone booth
When needed became Superman
If duty called I lent a hand
Free range to fly all on your own
Solve problems with the skills I've shown
A carpenter; I gave the tools
But up to you how you would use
My hope that given in due time
the skills you had would exceed mine
And there you'd fly so high above
As I look up; heart filled with love
Amazing heights I know you'll reach
This life we live is up to each
of us deciding what to do
And I'll always believe in you
And just remember as you fly
Wherever you go or how high;
Into the world I've sent you off
to learn life's lessons as their taught
So when you look you might not see
Think I have gone; Can not find me
But whether up or down below
I just want you to always know
You are my son and I love you
No limit to what you can do
The distance might be further now
But since your birth I kept this vow
That you would be under my wing
To keep you safe and watch you sing
*
#
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
I write through the words I could not speak,
for every teardrop, lying on her lonely lips;
she is my sunset before night comes awake,
she is my poetry, in my dreams, when I sleep.
I write on the silence embraced by the night,
for every hope, foresee but strength to move;
I cast myself away from the shadows of life,
she is my poetry, in my eyes, when I love.
I write those heartaches she tried to seclude,
for every doubt, which ever maimed her feet;
she is a one perfect love story to be told,
she is my poetry, in my grave, on my death.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 6:08 AM UTC
Question 1.
can you escape the words that so easily want to roll off your tongue
can you put them away
see them off on a ship
have them cross into the horizon and dissipate
under the burning red sun
of the east
Question 2.
Can you replace all letters of an alphabet
that easily taught, rolled off your tongue
can you put them in a shoe box,
seclude them in a corner of your new life,
where 80% of the time you are fine
Do you think they will cross too
cross the horizon, like the things you wish would
and then dissipate
Question 3.
Does the pollution amplify the heat, if so can the heat burn or melt old Polaroids
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
Tough lesson from my Dear mama
Also a letter to my unborn child
Life is like a journey that you ride through
You have to have Ambitionz as a Ridah
But sometimes, life could get really tough
That you ask yourself questions like...
Is the world against me?
Or is it, me against the world?
It could "seem" like you're trapped
Or out of moves
Avoid isolation, it will cause you to shed so many tears
And it allows temptations to gush in your mind
If you seclude yourself, it could be tougher to resist the temptation
Some friends, you hit 'em up and they will turn their backs at you
But some will be ready to offer any sort of help and ask you... How do you want it?
That's the type you call unconditional love
At those daunting times, to prevent drowning
You have to keep ya head up
Because better days are approaching
When everything changes for your good
Against all odds, stand strong
Say your prayers and your Hail Mary
Protect your life and in all that you do
Ensure you do for love
Guard your dreams
Always remind yourself
No matter what, keep riding through your journey
Life goes on...
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
let's run away
in the middle of the night
what you want is what I need
seclude ourselves from every trace of the city
and we merely
inhale and exhale
breathe in and breathe out
you're a bird
so I'm one too
I will never leave your side
-cj
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
Soon I will be alone.
In my own little cave
I can hide and be regrown;
my own soul I will save.
I will seclude myself from all;
from disappointment, pain, hate
and live behind my wall,
until I've learned to appreciate.
All I want is to be happy,
but, it seems the world is all sad,
I can't help but breathe empathy,
so I am prevented from being glad.
To add to that, I am toxic,
and all I touch turns to dust
until I learn to focus,
I will continue to lose trust.
I must learn to deal with this,
then attempt the world anew.
I need to learn to channel bliss,
then I can rejoin all of you.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
My lips are still blisterin,
From all that whisperin, that
Made me kinda sick, so I
Search for my chapstick, but
Find in it’s stead,
A pen, orn’ry and red,
That chooses to be used,
And true to my cue, I
Seclude and intrude
On each and every muse-
-ic, -ing, -ment, of my peers.
And its clear I have seared
Every page I have seen
And heard of my herd,
Pulled apart at the seems
Teeming with teams
And half-assessed dreams, that I dreamt
But have since beheaded like queens.
Yet who is the jester? The joker? The fool?
It’s me from your world, your country, your school.
It’s me who coos uncool, and caws too rawly
And so rarely, Even I’m a bit scared of me
No! No fear or fervor is necessary, tremors and
Heartstrings tremble headlines on the Daily.
Oooh, calm, soothe, my tongue, my soul, my lips,
I’ll cool them off but remember all this, or else you
May be blistering, and searching, for my lost chapstick,
But be lacking in trust, ‘cause I used it all up,
Quite a long time before you even lusted that luck.
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
hey there, i’ve got some bad news
it’ll wrap your neck tight with a noose
until your cheeks turn purple-blue
and you can’t feel your feet in your shoes
you’ll want to pick up a bottle of *****
and down it until your body feels abused
you’ll pass out and wake up confused
perhaps with a new drunken tattoo
all of your friends may be amused
but your regret and shame will suffuse
each time they point, laugh and slap the bruise
you’ll hide your pain ‘cos that’s what strong people do
and resentment will ride high through and through
‘til your face turns rock cold and you make the excuse
that everyone is ****** and they’re the ones to accuse
you’ll abandon your home without saying adieu
because you don’t need people that make you feel deduced
you don’t need to feel like you are being used
to the point you turn dark and only want to seclude
from love itself cause you can’t trust that it’s true
you can’t trust that it’s safe or that it won’t lead you askew
you might want to die, though the thought is so taboo
you’ll judge yourself for holding onto society’s views
until it comes to the point where you can’t handle the queue
the waiting for love gets tough but the whole time you grew
and it’s not so bad anymore, it even almost ensues
so you get on a boat, and row your canoe
out in the river, it’s just the water and you
and you’ll realize, finally that you’ve got nothing to lose
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
I hope you don’t judge me
By the pigment on my face
I hope you see more in me
Than the inches around my waist
I hope you stop believing
That age is a handicap
I hope you don’t seclude me
If we’re from different places on the map
I hope you don’t feel
As if I’m a threat to you
Just because my choice of partners
Is crucified by taboo
I am not the inferior gender
I demand equal place and pay
And when someone wrongs me
I hope Society doesn’t push me away
I hope you don’t shun me
Because my gender is undefined
I hope you don’t try your best
To crush me in the world’s grind
I hope you open your eyes and see
That our He was always the same
We need to stop all death and destruction
That happens in His name
I hope this system of division
Hasn’t stuck to your mind
And when it comes to basic rights
I hope I am not left behind
- D.S.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 11:30 PM UTC
Sugar of the island;
crystalline.
Seclude thyself from
the fingers of the men of The World.
Birds of flight;
softened against the earth; hardened against the sky.
Avoid rest beneath
the head of the men of The World.
Fresh water of the brook;
serene.
Bubble, toil, and rush away from
The mouths of the men of The World.
Trees of the forest;
magnanimous.
Stand tenacious before the frailty of them;
fortify the earth as it is gouged by the men of The World.
Mountains that challenge the heavens;
stoic.
Hold thyself between them
the men, and The World.
Salt-water of the sea;
viscous.
Run thyself down the gullet
of the men of The World.
Cattle of the fields;
naive.
Hold thy tongue and stomach;
do not slave to the men of The World.
Fangs of the exiled hunters;
voracious.
Bare thy teeth against them;
consume the meat of the men of The World.
Children of men;
ambiguous.
Remain at play; thy memory will wither of
the men of The World.
Men of The World;
insolent; gluttonous.
Sit idle and fat;
thy follies shall decay beneath the history of The World.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Take a second to jot down a few words directly into the post box.
Be thankful for the moment you got away today and drove with the windows down to pick up pizza for dinner.
You didn't want to step away from your computer,
but your parents told you to, so you ran the errand.
Driving...
yeah...
hm...
What a nice relief.
Remember the music that played and how the wind brushing your arm reminded you of that liberating feeling when you would ride motorcycles in Estero, and it felt like nothing mattered...
You just drove and hummed whatever song made you feel the happiest.
yeah...
Okay.
Your procrastination is over, so seclude yourself out on the lanai;
brace for the long night ahead.
Maybe your friends will wish you a good night and it'll motivate you for the long haul.
It hasn't been too long since you last stayed up until 2... 3... maybe 4am, right?
Put on that playlist. (It will help.)
Let Son Lux provide that numbing white noise,
loud enough to keep you energized, quiet enough to let you type.
Maybe you'll stay out until you get it done.
Maybe you'll just get it over with tonight.
Maybe you'll want to stay out, to see the sunrise.
Maybe,
but for now, finish up your word doodles,
your little mindless rants,
so you can apply your mind to the "important things".
You'll make the best of it. (I know you will.)
Maybe you'll have fun with it.
Maybe you'll be proud of it.
Maybe you'll forget everything you've learned,
Maybe,
but for now, this is your time to write,
your time to prove yourself,
so you can tell the rest of the world,
"I did it."
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
•
I seclude myself in the dark pit,
So that no one could hurt me and push me to hell for my demise,
And so I am here sitting and crouch in melancholy,
As the beating of my heart join the euphony of silence & darkness in unison,
I feel numb and yet happy with the tranquility,
But suddenly I felt the tears racing down my cheeks and then I start wailing,
I breakdown in fragments and pick it by myself,
I am gradually dying with no console,
Even my shadow left me in vain,
My soul scream for help,
But end up with nothingness,
I reach out my hand hoping for someone to lift me up,
But nobody is there for me,
I only got my will to keep me on my feet,
I only got my faith to stand up and move forward.
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
"I've been told that to fix the problem, you must first find its root... But you can't fix something that's not broken. I am not broken, just slightly damaged. My mind is like a thousand year old oak tree, and my facade as fragile as porcelain. My emotions act as a wrecking ball and when the night hits I'm nothing but a decaying mask. I fear pain, so I don't welcome love. I turn it away; a ruthless rejection, and send it back to where it came from. It haunts me, and in the night my own demons become insomnia. To fix the problem, I must first find its root."
Or perhaps I mustn't focus on finding the root, I think the real issue might be that I am conscious that there are monsters in my head and my insomnia is result to the ongoing battle I have with myself and those monsters. Weather to love them or hate them, I do not know. They save me and protect me, yet they seclude me from the rush of risk and beauty of bewilderment. When I lay in my bed my body feels great fatigue but my mind and my eyes are wide awake; ready to run circles around the world if they could. I no longer think that the solution would be to find a root or a specific turning point, but to end the battle of contradiction with the monsters that have taken over my thoughts and stolen my sleep. So do I love them because they protect me and have made me a smarter person? Or Do I hate them because they are the bricks that make up the walls I have built and they are the guards holding the riffles at the top of the walls shooting every single beautiful daring soul in their attempt to reach the real me? I will hate them. Yes the souls that have hurt me right after gaining my trust are the reason to my hurt and the nutrition to the growth of my monsters, but the very own monsters themselves are the ones responsible for my inability to recover from the inevitable hurt. They have Inprisoned me in this constant dark and uttermost thick desolation. It is because of how overpowered I am by them that I fail every single time in my attempt to breath. They are suffocating me and burying me in a state so dark I fear the incapacity to get myself out. It is a journey of endless work, the wounds i have will eventually heal, but there will always be scars. It's like an addiction, even after being clean and sober the want of the drug will always be as great as it was the first time. So the fragility of my scars is so great it is completely capable to revert me back into the dark whole if i get hurt or scared again. i need to realize and accept that these things are inevitable and not close myself but open myself even more for the next person. The final solution will be to accept that the mosters?they are their, acknowledge them, deal with them, and never let them take over and do what they want with me. Then and only then will I be able to sleep.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
*I heard painful derision of the nightfall
drawn me to seclude my talent
into the unknown place where it was not born futile.
It has been years since you ate my mind;
since we met in that strange road
where all melancholies diverged,
you have been my relief, my friend
and my witness when I was crippled by tears.
I seldom asked the mirrors, why should I continue?
If there are thousands of people outside our worlds
who could create you better than I,
who could make you more attractive than my pen?
Why should I continue my dreams?
And so I almost gave up, surrendered in peace;
I always wake up on the wrong side of the bed.
I was sailing edges of the oceans
just to seek for a masterpiece,
but I was fooled by my selfish intentions
and so I laughed at myself for length,
for there were a bunch of times
I could not even bestow you a single word.
I was totally bruised; buried my feet on the ground.
Others love my poetry, others just trifle,
others read it aloud that no one can hear,
others in facade of silence.
It matters no more, I have critics then.
I write not to impress, but simply to express
my undefined emotions, and unstitched fantasies.
Well, composing you is little bit hard for my part,
but you were a butterfly in my heart.*
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 5:11 AM UTC
It’s a simple, mundane day, yet busy with an absolute slew of schoolwork
I take up a table in the library, high up on the 4th floor, overlooking
The shapes below with different work in the same time and place
There’s a large model airplane, an early model,
Suspended by cables that attach themselves to the far walls,
Yielding the illusion of mid-flight
It appears I wasn’t the only one with the idea to seclude myself this high;
Around me are the detached murmurs of still more students, bent
On the conclusion of their labors, some more eager than I, some less so
And closer to me, on a juxtaposed table, is another student, about my age
Shuffling through what looks like math
But I don’t pride myself much on intrusion, so I let him be
For hours we all toiled, us in the 4th floor and us down below
The music of light concentration, fluttering pages, a utensil,
Swathing through those immobile wings and dwindling on the propeller
The time is rapidly becoming the enemy in all our bingo books
And of the books stacked in the cluster of cases, some of which will no doubt remind one
Of the timeless saying that ‘time waits for no one’
The student of the table next to me is still at work, and I’m still at work
And people file in and out of the door which leads downstairs,
Faces going in with indignance and a foreknowledge of what they’re to do
Faces leaving triumphant, secured in another day’s duty crossed off
I steal a look at the student close to me
I see him pass a tired hand over his eyes
(I agree with his plight)
By now we’ve been swarmed with a million like us
Jumping from table to table to seat to seat, in groups or in respectable solitude
A veritable mosaic of people, a timelapse in ironic real-time, elapsed second onto second
The darkness crowds the unlucky surfaces of the windows, tries to push in
And like lichen stuck to sea rocks amid a terrible tidal storm we remain
Jaded and mentally broken down, but finally we see each other
He looks at me dully, I return it with a shrug and the slightest smirk
And I think we both understand it
Though no words needed to pass through the air, nor signals of the eyebrows,
The hand, the heavy persistent sigh
We’ve seen the lapse, just us and the jetstream of the world unending
And he looks away, and I look away at the suspended plane, still as it ever was
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
I suppose he thought I needed to be tamed,
or required reprimandation & obedience training,
because he could simply never
let me BE...
myself without an open invitation for some harsh admonishment
or crippling criticism.
I must have painted a target that begged for his attention
on the core of my soul
because he loved the thrill in taking aim & shooting to ****
He still colors my characterizations of the men I meet,
who ask me for insight into my mind,
& he leads me to question the intention behind
any stranger's simple gesture.
He told me he loved me, but he held me much too tight
like a petulant child who refuses to share
or suffocates a butterfly clutched in between his hands
- because its beauty inspired a selfish need
to seclude it away for one's self.
He told me he needed me, that without me he would be left
to falter blindly through a nebulous black night,
yet he stood so close to my flame that it was inundated,
& he smothered his source of warmth & illumination.
A fire needs to breathe if it is to rage & be magnificent
- he knew that & he feared it tremendously.
He taught me to fear myself & undermined my capability
to silence those who shook my confidence.
In doing so he left me teetering on a decrepit foundation
& he so delighted in kicking bricks out from beneath me.
He pushed me down & taught me to be terrified of falling
dreading the arousal of self empowerment & ambition
to welcome an opportunity to pick myself back up again.
He tried to tether me to land,
like a flightless bird
- inert & with no purpose.
He thought he had me hooked like an inhumane bully
who allows a fish to fight his line
until it believes it has once again attained liberation,
then roughly reels it in, relishing in sick indulgence.
He thought he had me tethered,
but I am not worn-out & weathered
like an old leather ball
& I am not to be beaten round in endless circles,
the obsolete plaything battered by systematic violence
made into child's play.
I said no & walked away.
I broke my tether that day.
& I never looked back.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
Champagne bottles on the ground
Glitter splattered on walls
Tried to wash it all off
But it has stained the walls
Mascara on my face
Tried to clean the evidence of pain
But it hurts to confront it
I'll leave the wound to fester
Knocking on the door
Oh dear, Oh dear
Leave me alone
I won't come out, I won't come out
Might as well be hell
One more drink, One more drink
Please
Don't watch me, Don't watch me
Leave
Close the door, Close the door
Seclude myself in the cold
Chandeliers swinging, half broken, lights flickering
And I am the one swinging
Trying to make the last chain break into pieces
But it keeps holding on
Why won't it break I just want to fall
Feel my face on the ground
The Chandelier continues to shine while I try to die
I am holding on to dear life
Won't try to save myself though
Might as well try to let go
Maybe the Chandelier will fall, I am not sure
Glasses crackle under the pressure of my hands
Feel bad that I am destroying it
But I need your demise so I can die
© Sofia Villagrana 2018
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
I saw it a few days ago
I chanced a glance into the void
The place in which all emotions fall and seclude themselves
The place where there are no stars and there is nothing but loud space
She'd just tore away from me
A small tear in the muslin
But she pulled and pulled
Until the void was exposed in my shredded star chart
That subtle darkness in the undertones undulating thickly
Turbulent waves beneath the glorified surface thinness
And behind the closed door it-
It was just a second really
And the hopeless scientist behind me
The dark and big and pragmatic and meek
He didn't see
But he knew
And he wanted it back
And again
She left me frayed
In another winter
Before I could look to the skies and find meaning
When our world was lit only by the fires of forthcoming fears and futile flickers
What clouded the far-off pinpricks, the soft pinching of reality knocking at my door?
It was her straight-edge fragility
And her straight-edge solution
Now her world is lit by a different kind of fire
A fire that numbs
So she said
A fire that heals
So she claims
A flickering flame that destroys every membrane of my being
And binds my hands to my feet
And shoots wildly across the sky
So I cry
And I weep
And I, a universe of atoms
feel like a lost atom in her universe
I safely encased in my crinkled paper, but
Hot holes slowly eat their way through
No maps or constellations face any competition before her
But all she sees is a world of comets and fire
My short fuse is wilted
So she unzips her skin with a zippo
And she freezes time
And she runs across my horizon
Bright, beautiful, blazing
She is forever above my hands
Her path unseen and unforseeable
A spectators daydream
The astrologists' nightmare
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
When you stop needing someone
It is not that you want to be alone
Understanding that if ever you have to
You'll be fine on your own
There is undescribable freedom attached
No-BIRTHED by solitude
There absolutely is no greater power
Than peace in mind when you self-seclude
The most effective weapon held in your defense
To fight pain and heartache
Is learning the talent of being by yourself
Everyone else is unprepared for the break
Oct 29, 2024
Oct 29, 2024 at 1:32 AM UTC
Sometimes I just want to exist and have nobody know that I do.
I think they call that solitude.
The struggle comes with the quite often daily
battle against the innate human nature within me
that yearns for social interaction, inclusion, or as I see it invasion.
Invasion of my life, who I am, and what it makes me.
At times I accept the compliments and the positive remarks aimed at me by others
but for the most part I shy away as though it’s all I know to be a pessimist.
It is almost as though I am constantly battling
against my inner self with the vibrant urge to seclude myself from anyone and anything
that is remotely like a positive influence
as though I don’t deserve to be liked or accepted.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
Light breeds shadow
In the form of fear
Consuming my immortality bit by bit
Creating a fiend
That guzzle up my happiness
Till the deepest core of my conscience
Remorselessly
Piecemeal
I am dying from my own trepidation
That agitates me
Whether to choose malevolence
That is sweet and warming
Or to choose benevolence
That is pain and suffering
Only the saint's heart will find its way
With the least tainted loopholes
Gifted by the brute to the paradise god has created
Destitute and feeling obselete
Failed to be absolute
I seclude myself
To a silence so deafening
And the temperature is dropping
While the loneliness is creeping
In fetal position
On this oversize king bed
With blue bed shed
But no blanket
Vainer, i thought.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
I go when my head is over crowded with thoughts,
When my heart is overwhelmed with feelings,
And when the ignorant and shrill voices of my family and peers are too much to bear.
I seclude myself within the walls of the auditorium.
In the auditorium, there are endless possibilities,
It is filled with a vast emptiness of echoing silence.
It is so nice to hear silence.
I walk up on stage and close my eyes,
Not to visualize a performance, but to listen.
I stand.
I stand till I can’t feel my body.
Till I can’t feel anything .
Till I cease to exist.
I sing.
I sing not to hear the words, only the notes.
The sound floats up like a cloud.
It floats, swells, and fills, as I breathe life into the room.
Each note echoes blending one into the other.
It fills my ears and my mind,
Until there are no more thoughts
No more tears
Only music.
Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 5:19 PM UTC
I drink lipton tea
And sit and think about what we could be
Soul searching like a ghost
Girl let me hold you close
Come with me quick
Before my pain ends this note
I drink lipton tea
And sit and think about what we could be
When financialy I could be the foundation
Me and you could multiply to fill our nation
Or seclude ourself from the world
It could be just me and you baby girl
I drink lipton tea
As I sit and think what we could be
Mentally we could already be
Bcuz I live with you in my dreams
In a blue painted house
With a black painted gate
I work from 5 to 9
And always come home on time
I drink lipton tea
As I sit and think what we could be
So at the end of this rhyme
We could get lost in time
Hoping the nay sayers never find us
So at the end of this rhyme
You can see what I see in me and you
The love we can make and things we could do
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:14 PM UTC