Painfully Told to the Weak Hearted

I love you,
They are just words to you.
Though they mean everything to me.
A pit of bottomless regrets,
Hurt more than all the fish at sea.
Could never understand your reasons,
But now I do,
Thought you were the "one"
Now I love you

Can't resist smiling when I see you,
Yelling at you because of what you did.
All ideas and plans vanish when you go to hug me,
How can I say no?
Get free of this curse?
Live to tell another.
Another story, song, poem
Tell of another love, hate, a friend in need

A tale of to people,
Fixing a dirty deed.
A story, if you will,
Of a princess in that ever lasting tower,
A king, with more than enough power.
Then theres a song, a song of dreams,
Written for those who have seams.
Seams to fix a broken heart,
Maybe enough so it will never fall apart.

A tale about love.
A story about us.
A song to fix old wounds.

Maybe one day, that princess will no longer be in tower, but in a house in the country, or a city in New York
That king will be gone, or at least quiet, as the princess escapes..
And maybe, just maybe, that heart may heal and find some one who knows how treat old wounds, not to make his own, but to make sure they stay sewn.