Monday, May 14, 2007

Some times we argue, at others we fight
it brings a smile to think of the time we cuddled through the night.
endless calls drizzling on Youth's plane,
memories aplenty of sorrows slain.
ephemeral love in the blossom of Spring;
withered and gone tis' the Summer brings.
Somewhere beneath the broken pieces,

i'll find the good girl who'll iron my heart's creases.

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