08 marzo 2014

Día 208 fuera de casa

I couldn't help my eyes;
sometimes green,
sometimes black.
I couldn't get along with the dark.
You were still here and now,
now who knows where you are.
This room is not mine,
or maybe it's me the one
that thinks dreams can last.
No more comfort.
No more past.
It's no longer with us.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario