Lyretry

My Post (24) (1)

Death is not much
For those who betray
Though I no longer love you
I wish you to stay

My comfort is little
And you bring me more
After what you have done
This mind withers the floor

I am but one
And you are me
Together we dreadfully hold
On to what we see

An image of sparrows
Of flight and free
The aim is taken
A crumbling of three

About G.Edward Smith

Looking...Looking...and trying to find...
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