Book of Tears
Oh, How lucky.
I was your drug,
the very essence of your heart
the driving force
the reason for waking up,
You wrote poems to express your feelings
You wrote songs to let me know
But through and through I let you go
I let you slip through my hands
Like only grains of sand.
How stubborn was I?
How blind could I of been?
How wrapped up in my lust was I?
I could of had something beutiful
Oh so beutiful.
But how lucky I am.
How lucky I am to call you my drug.
How lucky I am, to have a second chance,
to let my world be free
and to be happy.
Not to be restrained by the spears
we call words.
Not to be beaten by the tongues
of those who critized me
But to stand up and declare,
In a thunderous voice,
My love for you.
And put those spears and those tongues
unto an eternal rest. And live my life
the way I want too.
Oh how lucky I am.