Do you get that feeling too,
When you see me walking to you?
Have you ever thaught what might be,
When you never took notice of me?
Things like this are laying in the air,
Your hands are tankled in my hair.
The snow is falling from the cold outside,
We're in the snow-globe trying to hide.
The final chapter takes over the story,
I hate that you have to worry,
Tears that filled once my inside,
Tried when I stopped to deny.
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.
