Maybe because she's procrastinating.
She knows how love hurts.
You, she doesn't want to desert.
She closed her eyes and breathed.
With exhaust, she's been bequeathed.
The pain, you can see in her eyes,
But she always has on a disguise.
You had it once but you lost,
Somewhere in the very last frost.
Everything wasn't turned around.
Now, absolutely nothing sound.
This poem is getting tiring.
Maybe it's because she's desiring
The right words to tell you,
That "forever" was with who?
J.
