I fear the fact that my canary will wonder away from my grasp to another window,
But that's a maybe or perhaps,
But still it frightens me to think up a thought,
That she will rip my heart apart by going to a new window,
I'll be another story she sings in her songs,
but I'll put on a smile and say it was worth the while,
But deep down I'll still feel something for that canary,
But now I'm Sitting at my window,
just a story.
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YOU ARE READING
Boy. Paperheart
PoesíaWarning: I don't mind wrapping you up in my paper blanket of love poem promises to keep you warm from yourself and allow the depressing lines inside to give you a paper cut, I am a cruel poet. ••• "To indulge in your exi...
