Lovers lost in days departed,
Today I wish it never started.
I fell from grace, to reach this pace,
And threw away an old shoe’s lace.
But now I realize you’re cold as ice,
And really not that nice.
Sometimes I’m alive but tired,
And sometimes not alive at all.
Even though I’m one eighty-five,
I’m never so strong a tree,
When with bended knee,
I realise that God will always be there,
To pick through my nightmare –
Of you with another man,
With the name of someone near,
Bringing me so much pain.
No comments:
Post a Comment