May 2, 1991

141. Your Broken Dreams

Oh, why do you say I am wrong
And take away what is there?
You press your lips to mine
And I think of what we could share.


You give me your hand
As we walk along the shore,
But two minutes later
You’re uncertain, just like before.


One day you love me,
And the next, you don’t care,
So now I walk away,
Offering only a lonely stare.


I try to love you,
But it’s harder than it seems,
For I’ll always be picking up
The pieces of your broken dreams.

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