In the mornings,
We would meet.
In the afternoon,
We roamed free.
In the evenings,
We would part.
And my heart,
Would be jailed once more.
And your love,
It was a key.
But to someone else's cell.
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Words are Knives
Poetryperhaps night is dark to provide us less distraction from our nightmares. Ranking: #267 in Poetry #144 in Poetry
The Key
In the mornings,
We would meet.
In the afternoon,
We roamed free.
In the evenings,
We would part.
And my heart,
Would be jailed once more.
And your love,
It was a key.
But to someone else's cell.
