You drop the hints, I blow you off
And suddenly it's not enough
I need to see your face
If we still have that spark
And like dry wood and a match
We're off, falling into the same steps
Cold autumn days a change from summers heat
We talk for hours
Even through the freezing showers
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection I "Heartache"
PoetryMy failed attempts at poetry from a year ago, though by the end they were merely paragraphed rants. These were used to vent and understand my own feelings at the time, though they have no relevance to the me of today.
