There's a place for me,
Here on this half-page that should not be,
Somewhere between now and then,
When I will begin to live again.
Forward I'll climb,
(Beetween the grasping hands of time)
And make my odd escape into,
The middle of a story about me and you.
We will sit to talk around the campfire at night,
And sing our silent songs into the half-light.
And all the old half-thought thoughts we thought were dead,
Will come with tender forgiveness and tuck softly into bed;
Dreams, of all our halves made whole, turning softly in our head...
Average customer review:
Add a comment
Shaycom Corporation. All rights reserved.