One Of Us
Why is it you only realise what you've
broken when you're picking up the pieces?
That the only way to win a girl's heart is
to break it never ceases
to amaze me. The way that
unrequited love cuts so deep,
but makes you care more than if
she sang you to sleep.
How I won't tell this to my best friend but
still find the 'courage' to fit these words,
just for your reading pleasure,
into such a well-formed verse.
Apparently people don't dream
about kissing their best friend,
so what becomes of her, these
thoughts, and the letters I won't send?
They won't wait, unlike me,
they'll die never spoken.
I've heard they call it 'breaking up'
because one of us is broken.
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