I will not be lost in this garden of Polaroid pictures
My soul, my will, my laughter and tears
are much too big to fit in a cubicle paper prison
Slap a postage stamp on my cheek
and fold me into an origami crane
I shall fly away
and shreds of our tangled lives will rain
Whenever you desire, just hold out your hand
catch the little bits of love notes i once left on your bedside table
Burn them for warmth
Add them to a collage creating something more beautiful
But don't push me into the corner
collecting dust in silent must
I will not settle for any less
than the sunlight rays seeping through your window
Bedside notes or not
I will always wish you a good morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment