deepundergroundpoetry.com
Can exile You!!
What can I do?
If I can’t take her out of my mind,
Her memory's etched in every site,
Of the songs I write, where sadness grew,
What can I do? What can I do?
I adore her still, though it makes me blind,
She’s got me begging, left behind,
On my knees, I plead she’ll see it through,
What can I do? What can I do?
The world’s a wasteland, missing her kiss,
Drowning in memories, all that I miss,
I search for myself, but the mirror’s askew,
What will I do? What will I do?
Her name cuts deeper than any blade,
Living on pictures, love starts to fade,
Without her touch, I’m a shadow, too,
What can I do? What can I do?
Her memory’s carved into my skin,
Sorrow floods where joy had been,
I’m lost in the ache, and it’s all so true,
What will I do? What will I do?
What can I do?
If I can’t exile her from my mind
If her memory is tattooed on the paper
Where I write my songs and sorrows
What can I do?
If the world is unlivable without her kisses
If I’m drowning, missing her
If I can’t even find myself in the mirror
What will I do?
If hearing her name hurts more than a wound
No one can live just staring at photographs
Without her love,
I’m becoming the living dead.
If I can’t take her out of my mind,
Her memory's etched in every site,
Of the songs I write, where sadness grew,
What can I do? What can I do?
I adore her still, though it makes me blind,
She’s got me begging, left behind,
On my knees, I plead she’ll see it through,
What can I do? What can I do?
The world’s a wasteland, missing her kiss,
Drowning in memories, all that I miss,
I search for myself, but the mirror’s askew,
What will I do? What will I do?
Her name cuts deeper than any blade,
Living on pictures, love starts to fade,
Without her touch, I’m a shadow, too,
What can I do? What can I do?
Her memory’s carved into my skin,
Sorrow floods where joy had been,
I’m lost in the ache, and it’s all so true,
What will I do? What will I do?
What can I do?
If I can’t exile her from my mind
If her memory is tattooed on the paper
Where I write my songs and sorrows
What can I do?
If the world is unlivable without her kisses
If I’m drowning, missing her
If I can’t even find myself in the mirror
What will I do?
If hearing her name hurts more than a wound
No one can live just staring at photographs
Without her love,
I’m becoming the living dead.
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