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Tags: Romance, Sorrow


Is love always so painful, or when you were grown up?


Submitted:Jul 7, 2012    Reads: 35    Comments: 10    Likes: 6   


The clock stopped at seven thirty

An angle pointed to the grimy surface

Of the wall we used to paint

Graffitis with our pallets

Oh, girl. Do you remember

That day we encountered

You wore a baggy white blouse

Laughing with your mouth closed

Taking my move

Unwilling to spy at the stoop

I thought I could prove

That this was not a goof

But the fact was that you were getting bored

When we both started to get old

You kept dodging my call

As if it Was all my fault

You said I was odd

Or whatever it was

Girl all I wanted to see was your smile

You pouted and turned and left me there to mourn

Couldn't sleep without feeling you there

But the bed was empty, lingering with your scent

The picture on my hand I tried to introspect

Clearing my thought so I could retrospect

The clock stopped at seven thirty

An angle pointed at the grimy surface

I studied your Graffitis and could almost see your face

Skin was smooth and eyes shone.





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