Wednesday, November 10, 2010

It's Not a Big Deal.

Bad times, bad times, we all go through the bad times
and inside,
it tears us apart.

He turns to her, hoping for a warm body to lean against
but she's just a shadow
present
no more.

She's trying to offer what she can,
but after offering it all
what is left?

Bittersweet sunsets, angst against the morning, we all fall down,
and outside,
faces crumple.

She is paralysed to a state of loss and diminishing,
but all he can do is be distracted
unnoticing
not his fault.

He's all ears and eyes he thinks,
but reality is a bitch,
ain't it?

cinnamon sugar afternoons with a touch of blasing sun, we all squint.
and in between,
understanding takes place.

She realizes the feelings can pass,
he realizes that truth is never found.
they can overcome.

He takes her hand, she takes his,
what is there to fight about,
anymore?

Fucked up mornings, screwed up days, lonely evenings,
we all go through hell
and in the end,
all thats left is you and me.

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