Sunday, 25 October 2009

It's your loss and I don't give a toss.



Your speach is shredded by
uncertainties, did you wait
for me to tell you please?
You took yours off my set
of keys, such a sad attempt
at heart's release. It stings
you like a herd of bees, no
solace in so many seas. Your
face ruined by a sad brows
crease as what we meant
begins to cease.




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