Sweet Summer’s Girl And Her Little Bag Of Tragedies

The riddles in your writings,
from heart to pen in hand,
of your walks through the
town and city streets.
Your small hopes for tomorrow
and today’s highlights or muse.
It’s funny how I cherish every word.

Thoughts of sweet, sweet summers
on this lonely carousel
now sparkle from the light of your mirage.

And with visions of you alive in my eyes,
these dying days of mine are so content.

So much rests unspoken
and even more untouched.
But trust me when I say
I’ll always remember.

And the days we spent since we first met
alone or together,
I’ve been waiting for you to save me all along.

Hearts meander carelessly ’round
this vicious guillotine
and I confess,
I’ve pressed the blunt end of its blade.
Murder. Murder. Blind and slow.
Fools like me are loveless when they’ve
given all they have to toy and
gamble with their desires.


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