At night I'm dreaming,
I am begging,
To come and hug me while you singing,
But sometimes you have books that you'll reading.
Inside of the books is a mystery letters,
That some point each sentence length as a meter,
That tell us our story so fort that so tender,
That our love will end as happy and lover.
And some points brings madness,
That covered of sadness,
That tell us to stop this illusion happiness,
That our love will get through to bitterness,
And if we continue we will carry all matters that will kill us as blindness.
But a light of our room turned on,
The books stopped talking and moved on,
To the next page of our love story,
That you will marry me and love me 'till the end as the end of our love story.
YOU ARE READING
It's a gift
Poetrymy love, my received feedback nor feelings. Some hurts. Some not. But considered as a gift to challenge you as a person. I hope you like it.
