Of Under A Willow Tree

January 13, 2013
Its the simple things that flood my mind:
The color green, a hand in mine.
The shortest time was so divine.
I think now I have found the line.

The first time that we met was June,
Under the light of a waxing half moon.
Marine Core blues, and a woeful tune;
Played on repeat - till midnight since noon.

We loved in the city, then returned to town.
These memories do weigh me down.
These are the things that haunt me now:
Remembering when I see you around.

Its the hairline fractures that fell the wall,
And the smallest blades cut worst of all.
From higher up comes a longer fall,
And I'd let myself climb mighty tall.

I know now to always trust my brains,
Because my heart cannot manage the reins.
It's led me down too many rugged lanes,
And I don't need deal with all these pains.

I remember my dreams of under a willow tree,
And I free my heart from the ropes that bind me.
With every word, I feel a little more free,
And I remember who I am, who I will always be.

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