"Poem"
Because when I dream, you might be waiting for me
In the last one
I had a body of ice, my organs frozen solid
It was not a good thing
But one of those wierd melting away and dying things
And you had come to be with me
Even though it's fiction in real life
I can only speak to you in my dreams and in my rhymes
But it becomes clear, clear like pure ice
Out of these poetic dreams is where I'll make my road
And I don't want to walk all those miles alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment