If my life was a song, would you be the chorus?
If I was a flower, would you be the florist?
If I was the problem, would you be the answer?
If you were the cure, would I be the cancer?
If I was the sadness, would you be the rain?
If you were a headache, would I be the pain?
If you were the scissors, would I be the cut?
If you were a village, would I be a hut?
If I was a candle, would you be the flame?
If you were a player, would I be the game?
If I was a forest, would you be a fire?
If I was the oil, would you be the lighter?
If I was the nightmare, would you be the dream?
If I had been threaded, would you be a seam?
If I was the finish, would you be the line?
If I was a clock, would you be the time?
If I was a writer, would you ever read?
If I was on fire, would you ever leave?
If I stopped writing, would you ever care?
If I started dying, would you be there?
In all of this writing,
I feel really blue,
But please, just don't leave me;
I'm better with you.
YOU ARE READING
Yours Truly, Me.
Poetry" I can lie just like they tell me, or I can break this crazy spell/ I can fake my way to heaven, or take my sorry ass to hell, " -Yours Truly, Me.