I know it's not easy
To be in love with me
I'm holding onto
5000 pounds
Of luggage
From the past
And when I packed my bags
And I sat beside you
You asked
If you could carry
Some of the burdon
I swear there were tears
In my eyes
When your smile radiated light
Into the darkest depths
Of my damaged home
So I took my bags
Locked the suitcases tight
And I threw them
Into
The sea
Beautiful. Nicely done.
Beautiful. Nicely done.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "