The sad part is
That he won't hear
The words i'd whisper
Through his ear
The things I'd tell him
How I want to grow old
With only him
So he won't feel cold
So I tell him now
When its to late
Here you go
I told you it was faith
But you didn't believe
In all my stories
How everyone was happy
You thought only of the quarries
If you would have just let me talk
Before you flew
Because then you would know
That I love you too
YOU ARE READING
The Misunderstood Loner
PoetryJust some of my poems that I write when I'm being depressing and gloomy.