Wish I could have.
A second chance.
At love.
Just one more taste.
Of pure romance.
That’s all I ask of.
The tenderness.
That one feels.
That loneliness.
The disease.
You stay home.
By the hour.
Thinking who you’re gonna love.
And how it feels so sour.
Is it easy.
To forget?
How we were pleased.
By the love we met?
Times have passed.
To tell us we’ve messed up.
Big time.
But all I want.
Is a second chance.
At having a beautiful life.
Love is pure.
And undeniable.
Love is the cure.
That we’d die for.
But we must not be sealed by pretences.
How we feel is how we are sentenced.
Legal is the right.
We claim for.
But love is not the type.
That you just run for.
We may bleed.
We may still be able to breathe.
But we live for love.
Our souls may grieve.
Our senses may be sealed.
But it will never be enough.
September 06, 2004
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