FLIP-SIDE

108

I told myself that words were precious, and not in infinite supply.

I told myself that I'd keep my secrets quiet and hidden til I die.

But somehow my pen flew to paper, and I stained the sheet with ink.

And when I read-back these hopes and prayers, my heart began to sink.

Because I knew that no matter what, I'll always have to write.

Otherwise I'd never see you in my dreams at night.