I certainly cannot write a love song.
So I want the spring to fall asleep on my face.
But the words are getting more and more in the way.
So why do I feel like a work of God that He got out of inspiration?
Your eyes are throne of my sorrow
but my arms are traitors and still want to hold you.
You are that symphony impossible to play
with the presence of reasonable.
But do I love you with all the words I’m giving away
just to find out who you are or to lose myself again?
No I certainly cannot write a love song.
But would you look for me at the end of the world?
Todays best new poem was written by Shaci Zen.