If I had a hundred suns
I'd give them all to you.
They'd twinkle out
Like dying stars
But they'd warm right up for you.
I'd give them out
Fifty by two
Just to watch you sing a tune,
They'd twinkle out
Like dying stars
But they'd warm right up for you.
If I had a hundred suns
I'd give them all to you.
I'd see them shine
From far away
How they warm right up for you.
I'd give them out
A hundred and two
I'll go cold.
All wrinkled and old,
But I'd warm right up to see you glow.
YOU ARE READING
Blood As My Ink
PoetryEmotions, beliefs, dreams, and imagination run through the body. Like ink they flow through the vein and, every now and then, it decides to run out.
