Your poems were for me mine for everyone but you... You looked at me, for me I looked at everyone and for everyone but you... You loved me but left... I left you but still loved... You scarred your body in search of me I scarred my soul in spite of you. You moved on and turned into a family man a lovely husband and a great father. I moved on and turned into a bohemian artist. a single woman and a great catch Our lives carried on Our paths seldom crossed Crossed if they did only to move on again... Until one warm and humid August Morning... The destiny intermingled again The line connected and so did the hearts... Now my poems are for you but you are for others I look for you but you have to look at others My love is for you and yours is divided... My soul is still scarred looking for a balm Your body is still scarred looking for the cure We seem to be the pieces of a puzzle waiting to ...
Painting with words, telling stories, expressing life...