Sunday, February 8, 2009

The note

you could have said a word before,
or given a small tear to roll,
even a short look of grieve,
when handing out that deadly brief;

it said all but by who,
i tried to find you i knew,
read over and over till no more,
voices are lost and eyes are sore;

and when the wall started to break apart,
they walked over a broken heart,
crumbling under a shattered man,
without his soul now he may stand;

an art that could be taught,
passion that saw the worst drought,
my south road became your north,
beauty of thy love is all the gutters' worth;

there is no truth that life is unfair,
you wont make it all that bad,
give you smiles to make me sad,
all is said but not all is read;

on the shores, mending my boat,
giving all to get a little note,
they know it and so do you,
in there there was no you.

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