You come to me with your typhoons,
I let you come in,
I left my shirts on your mother's house,
And you wear it when you're with your girlfriend.
Do you ever feel my perfume on those shirts when you're with her?
You make up with my sister,
My sister's bestfriend and then me.
You told me, I'm your last,
And I believe in myself that I can change you,
But I was wrong—
You changed me.
YOU ARE READING
Love of Roses [Poetry & Prose]
ПоэзияRoses are the flowers of Love; You are a rose That blooms on sunrise, And fell in sunset. Roses are the poems of love; You are the words I wrote, The rythmns of letters, For I am yours, And you are mine.
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