Tell me of the ones you loved.
Tell me of those you speak on your craft.
Tell me of all the girls
you dreamed of brushing your curls.
Tell me of the pretty boy
who saw nothing but a broken toy,
who only knew about putting up an act,
whose only crime is heart theft.
Tell me of that force of nature,
the most sublime creature,
the only one who could make a plain cotton dress
garment fit for a goddess.
Tell me of how you would blush
because of his crooked smile
born at the blow of a paint brush.
Tell me it's okay to feel the same.
Tell me it's nothing here to blame.
16/11/2017
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário
Obrigada pelo feedback!