locke-e
Where do I Begin?
If my words sheltered your heart,
And my art blinded the world.
Couldn’t we stay this way,
Never giving more than we choose.
Bringing back the tears in my eyes,
And the smile I painfully denied.
It isn’t each rose but the very last petal,
It shouldn’t be the last straw just the first sip.
I couldn’t bare the tall tales,
But I knew it would be a quick end.