My pen is bleeding on the paper,
As love is bleeding in my heart,
These words are bare truth,
So sing them to your music,
And play this music on my trembling soul strings,
In case you manage not to tear them, I'm yours.
And if you ever find the answers
To questions I have never asked,
Will you tell me lies
And always keep denying
You know where I have buried all my dreams,
When I'm not likely to remember it myself?
If I'm afraid to live tomorrow,
And only you can turn back time,
Just tell me, will you try
Until one day I ask you
To simply kill me with your own gentle hands,
But not the weapon of indifference you choose.
I only try to be sincere
When lose the sense of self-control,
But why not do the same,
Let's be alone together,
And, please, forgive me for this weakness of one day,
Once I have promised you I'll shield you all the time.

Comments
hilary west | December 10, 2011 - 20:32
Poor women are suckers for men. This is a neat little poem but is he worth it?
scratch | December 10, 2011 - 20:53
Now then. A bold and unpretentious effort. I like it and I also admire the bravery of the attempt at this. It is something that I have tried myself I must admit, however none of my efforts have come this close.