like trees in Spring or
like the red roses when they are in full bloom,
here is my love again,
waiting to be admired.
I can say I have forgotten that season,
I've been removing thorns.
but at the end, I always comeback to the same point
cherchez la femme!
Not that I don't try
It's just that I still care
I still wait, I'm still in flames
this is not a bed of roses but still a bed.
I look for your sweating hands,every night.
your rolling eyes, and your whispering sonnets
I look for the way you still cry
I look for that butterfly sensation.
by Tutinea ©
Stop waiting or the agony is never gonna die.
ReplyDeleteyou are still sleeping, dreaming and crying, and love should be a bed of roses and not just a bed.
Fight for what you really deceive, stop dreaming..please stop..!! it is time you
wake up. That butterfly you are looking for exists.. open your eyes and you are going to find it.