Friday, September 17, 2004

Revision #1

There are days that tempt me
To let you conquer my heart again,
But days like these produce the tragic heroine
And the everyone's-heard-it unrequited love song
(Kind of like this one).

Our words and thoughts still stay inside our heads,
Unwilling to be exchanged.
A casual glance, a witty remark,
But not much espresso for the soul passes over our lips
Since I walked back through your door.
(What are we afraid of?)

Pen slow dances on a paper stage
Leaves behind the footprints of the thoughts
You couldn't read inside my head,
And deny yourself on pages
Even while you make a life for yourself.
(And we're still dreaming.)

You're not the god I thought you were--
You're not my kingdom come, not my knight in shining armor;
You're just an old friend in jeans and t-shirt
Whose love and poems are given to another.
(Is that still a lie?)

And the end's a long way off
But we're always wishing it would come sooner
So we find our way separately
With our same old song still playing in the background
(And I still hear you sing it...)

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