I Want You To Write A Poem Off-the-cuff Right Here Right Now
Empty bliss, a thing you missed
Fingers stretched, at their tips
Floating away, out of reach
Not worth the effort, not worth the feat
A thing you lost, you never had
A thing you loved, a thing so sad
Something to admire, something to behold
Crumbling at your touch I bend and fold
In your hands I rest and sleep, a place for comfort, a place for me...
Fingers stretched, at their tips
Floating away, out of reach
Not worth the effort, not worth the feat
A thing you lost, you never had
A thing you loved, a thing so sad
Something to admire, something to behold
Crumbling at your touch I bend and fold
In your hands I rest and sleep, a place for comfort, a place for me...
31-35, F
