Friday, September 29, 2017

He Misses You

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I know that we haven't spoken for awhile.
How we teach ourselves grow apart.
Is it so hard to hit dial?
Turn the world upside down and have a fresh start.

Long trips and quick getaways.
To avoid seeing how beautiful you bloom.
Wondering how my life would be if she stays.
We were inseparable, but now we can't even be in the same room.

How sad it was to stay in your own thoughts.
Guessing how crowded the ambience of your wits.
Asking myself about you tying the knots.
Remembering our throne and it just fits.

Telling people to be up and about.
Seeing that maybe you still having a doubt.
Watching a movie and missed the preview.
Wasting time and money just to tell that he misses you.


Saturday, September 2, 2017

Still Nothing

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Not that I'm looking forward to that travelling train.
Or that we will crash and burn inside this never ending trip.
They said that it will be fun to walk in the rain.
Her only logic will eventually as much as a sinking ship.

It's only logical, said the one and only Mr. Spock.
Nothing came close to whatever she had in her mind.
Granted to whoever arrives in her tiny little sock.
Every other direction then goes left behind.

Later, she assumed that was because her departure.
Sadly, I'm just simply back to what I were when she wasn't there.
Even when she claimed she was in a torture.
Willing to die to receive every man can share. 

Obtain permission to tear the world apart.
Realize that she can still change her everyday.
Kind of odd if you think this is come from a sincere heart.
Delightful prison is a place when you can't have your own way.

Friday, September 1, 2017

Square One

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Two sides of a story, one step at a time.
Wondering why, when, who, or what could've been.
On the edge of my seat where the inspirations rhyme.
Killing expectations because of everything we've seen.

I have tried starting from the scratch.
None of it stopping me from staying in my bed.
Down to the bottom of an unlockable latch.
Side to side where she painted her world red.

Words are you filled the jar with predictable lies.
All around the earth's atmosphere.
Voices meant to be written instead of being wise.
Every inch withdraws ourselves just to make it clear.

Since it's apparently useless facing the truth.
I realize that I'm always going back to square one.
Only to find that there is no fountain of youth.
Nevertheless we both agree that what's done is done.