deepundergroundpoetry.com
Like Sand.
I've traded the blues
for the wide-eyed browns.
I've packed up my life,
for new states, new towns.
I'm sick in the heart,
though I'm hoping to mend.
But I miss my lover,
miss my best friend.
In my bed I have trouble,
I feel your hair run through my hands.
I wake up and you're gone,
slipped through my fingers like sand.
for the wide-eyed browns.
I've packed up my life,
for new states, new towns.
I'm sick in the heart,
though I'm hoping to mend.
But I miss my lover,
miss my best friend.
In my bed I have trouble,
I feel your hair run through my hands.
I wake up and you're gone,
slipped through my fingers like sand.
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