Once and Will be a 7 years old
Now with time , let's go back in time,
soaking in the arms of our mothers seem heavenly,
it is a mattress with unending ends and comfort,
the scare crow to nightmare.
And where am i now?
hating the ignorance of my past on the
udder of my lover,
the same unending ends and comfort;
the spooning arms of 3am,
and where is it am i now, at the branches
hating the past that seemed perfect like
at the darkest corner of my room just beside
arms folded around my legs;
in the oblivion of sad reminisce and pains.
Such an unending ends and comfort,
the same unending ends and comfort?
even at my own prime, can i still be dissapointed??...