Why am I only considered your girl when it's of convenience?
I'm tired of being covert, is it my crime that I cannot be kept?
I'm remembering how loving
You were back in the beginning
It was never about winning
When the world slowed, you kept spinning
It around, never dull moments
Contrast great with its postponements
Reality, a rodent
Ridding chances of atonement
Why can I only be pictured the world when it's served straight to you?
I'm tired of being secret, losing my mind that's too hard for you to digest
I'm remembering how loving
You were back in the beginning
It was never about winning
When the world slowed, you kept spinning
It around, never dull moments
Contrast great with its postponements
Reality, a rodent
Ridding chances of atonement
Why is my resilience taken out of context and viewed as contempt
May I ask why although I know? Your silence is brilliance
YOU ARE READING
Songs I Write | VIII
PoetryHello! - Please don't steal. - If you do use any or anything, just give credit, thanks. - 20 years old, England.
