November 23, 2011
By , Taylorsville, UT
Gone are my chances
Like the ashes, taken by wind
Of a rhyme writ solely for you.
I burned it while holding it,
But I wont even get a scar,
Because I don’t dare hold on, too long,
To thoughts of you.
They burn like loneliness,
Those thoughts,
And they nibble at my confidence.
You read me like a book,
Then marked the last page,
Before I could tell you the ending.
It’s alright though,
Because I couldn’t have said it,
I couldn’t have told you I love you.

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