I wish things would go back to the way they were,
but I know they never will.
To much was lost in translation, so much you didnt hear,
and now just a hole you've left to fill.
So as I sit there on the ground,
and hold my face in my hands,
I cant help but think of all that was found.
What has happened to my plans?
Because you struck me as something different,
a being much needed at the time.
But now all thats left is a trail thats burnt,
on all that has passed with time.
1 comment:
i think a lot of people can relate to thiis poem.....BEAutiful :)
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