May 02, 2006 18:20
His love for me I hid from you
My love for him I never knew
A sobbed confession at my feet
A weary heart then starts to beat
An injured soul a dark confession
Brush the tear, my demons lesson
Two friends lost, a lover gained
Two new wounds but mended pain
My thoughts of you I will keep close
Though mine in you shall be a ghost
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When I was younger and I wrote poetry I felt like what I wrote was fake... now it's all too real... maybe that's the meaning of growing up.