I hand her a diary
I hand her poetic confessions
I had her my heart
I hand her my obsessions
Sitting on the curbside with a free sign
Take away this emotional love crime
Hate crimes are easily pointed to
But love crimes make me hurt you
A graver offense
To which there’s no defense
Stolen hearts
Resold lies
Broken ties
I tried
I tried
No comments:
Post a Comment