It's Thursday night and
I'm strumming a song,
layin' here dreaming of him.
The day will be bright
when he comes along,
but outside everything's dim.
If you can see that you and me
together would be so happy,
then give me a flower
and let's talk til we run out of hours.
Take me off your back burner
and that dusty shelf
I know at love we're still learners
but I'm tired of being by myself.
It's Thursday night and
I'm strumming a song,
layin' here dreaming of him.
(i guess it's kind of weird how i talk about "him" and then talk to "you" but not sure how to fix it and make it still work. so pretty much it's a failure of a poem. oh well.)
genius
ReplyDeleteit works