deepundergroundpoetry.com
Young Love
I never thought I would be caught
Staring at sidewalks
Covering my drag marks
In a crooked little town
They were lost and never found
Dead leaves on the ground
Leave or the streets will beat you down
Kindlings like 'till death do we part
They'll call our crimes a work of art
Now we haunt the dark
Paper faces flood the streets
But we won't go down in defeat
A morbid painting on display
The sky is black in lead filled rain
Look at how young love dies
Buried at each other's side
Staring at sidewalks
Covering my drag marks
In a crooked little town
They were lost and never found
Dead leaves on the ground
Leave or the streets will beat you down
Kindlings like 'till death do we part
They'll call our crimes a work of art
Now we haunt the dark
Paper faces flood the streets
But we won't go down in defeat
A morbid painting on display
The sky is black in lead filled rain
Look at how young love dies
Buried at each other's side
Published 4th Sep 2014
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