I use to know...
what it was like to sit and think of what to write.
To write about love, and poetry,
and the beauty of life...
But now is nothing but
emptiness, struggles,and strife...
I use to dream of beautiful things,
moonlit nights, and rainbow dreams.
I use to sit on a high cliff...
just wondering...what if
I sat overlooking the ocean breeze,
and watched as the birds flew over the sea.
Now I sit on the floor of my home...
because you sent the furniture back to Rome...
I can't go to a cliff to think what if...not for a while maybe...
because you parked my car at the bottom of the sea...
I ask myself where did I go wrong? To have to
listen to this sad love song?
What did I say? To make you want to go away?
Was I not good enough? Or was it that my words were rough?
