smile at me,perhaps hold my hand.Talk to me,about things you understand.Be afraid,that i may not care,about the depth and virtue,of things you share.When i am alone,i hear no voice.There is no if,for i respect no choice.For upon my conscience,rests your hand,within my heart,does your smiling respect demand.I remember,but i don`t forget.i try and absolve things,that haven`t happened yet.I don`t have to forgive,for that isn`t me.In the world where i live,nothing is free.Smile and hold this trembling hand,mine is honour and commitment,to those things perhaps you haven`t planned.the joy,is in the swell,of the unseen tommorrow,where common sense dosen`t thrive,and so neither does sorrow.You are that smile,the tremble at a touch,you are the love,i longed for so much.Upon my hope,i live for one last chance,that with your honour and committment,i may perhaps once more dance;)
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 01:05:06 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015