How can I tell of/
the joys that I’m feeling deep,/
when she said goodbye?
OR
How can I relate/
the joys that I’m feeling, when/
she already left?
How can I tell of/
the joys that I’m feeling deep,/
when she said goodbye?
OR
How can I relate/
the joys that I’m feeling, when/
she already left?
This has been a good/
day to learn again what it/
means to be free brave.
Inspired by this song, which I heard for the first time this morning, as I was doubting myself and my place as a writer.
I learned why I stay/
up late nights: Not to flirt, but/
to learn to be brave.
Or
… It’s not to flirt, but to learn brav’ry.
Her soul felt so much/
pain. We could have learned from it,/
but she stayed silent.
I like when we talk/
because our discussions help/
congeal truthful thoughts*.
OR
*thoughts of truth
Though writing’s painful,/
my musings should make you glad./
It shows we’re growing.
When she said goodbye,/
she said: “That was easy.” I’m/
sad it was for her.
It is such a strange/
role reversal: she’s wanting /
the game more than me.
When I give her what/
she asks for, and she turns it/
down, I’ll stop trying.
When you ask for it,/
I will deliver more. But/
reject it, I quit.