I want you to stay even when the door is already closed,
I need to get down from this road,
That leads me back to your house everytime.
Could we spent the night peaceful this time?
How the hell did we end up between the line,
Maybe it was wishful thinking and that's fine.
Still I need you to hold me when I try to sleep
It's time to realise I fell in this hole to deep.
The waiting room is getting empty and full of dust
I sat in here for too long, it's eating me up.
Friday and you're still not home from this week,
That's the last time I'll make me feel so weak.
Have you ever thaught, maybe we could try again,
How we could dance together in the rain?
'I do' I confess when I imagine us sitting together in bed.
But slowly this feeling is burying under the ashes, cold and dead.
YOU ARE READING
Drunk under a Streetlight | poetry
Poetrypoetry /ˈpəʊɪtri/ noun literary work in which the expression of feelings and ideas is given intensity by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature.
