Numbers.
This will all come down to numbers.
You'll ask me for it,
You'll never call.
Numbers.
It's coming down to numbers.
You asked me for them,
You took them anyway.
Stealing it from me,
Only giving it back hours after I knew it was gone.
Numbers.
Something I now can't get back from you.
You stole it!
I trusted you!
You took away my numbers,
But I was just the wrong one,
And you were just the wrong caller.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Mess
PoetryI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
