poetry
W.
09:42
[Honey, It's Alright - Gregory Alan Isakov]
I cannot explain the words to you,
but it feels right.
It has been a tedious drive to get to where I am now,
where we are.
A month is long enough for you to know who I truly am,
is it good enough to know who you are?
A month of laughter, patience, lust, arguments and jealousy.
How do you see me now?
I am growing old,
am I still the same?
What do I see in you?
I see myself.
I see myself.
Bad past written all over the walls in the present
despite the changes we have tried to make.
It haunts us.
Don't be too afraid
don't be too concerned.
Words of rumours come from empty minded souls.
Caged in their own body;
no where to go,
nothing significant to talk about.
Immaturity comes naturally for them
and it is difficult to let go.
I am glad we aren't the same as the mindless beings of the world.
I know you are all I got,
you know it's got to feel right.
0 comments