I took your matches, I took your fire
When you burnt our bridge you set something dire
But I took my fear, and I took my dread
And I blew out your flames to put it to bed
I took my remains, I took my bricks
Now you won't see me again without that bridge
YOU ARE READING
Pink
Poetry"I landed on the ground and it had this horrible thing called gravity" In all it's different forms The poetry of pain The words of the girl who went from pink To a lonely shade of gray #67 Highest Rank © 2015 ML_Brooks, all rights reserv...
