8: 32 - Poem by Andrea Rivera
It 8: 32 its so dark and the air is so cold and bitter
I sit and can only think of you not here but with her
I hate it….is there any point to keep going on?
What for she’s already won
Not that you’re a prize
I only want you because the way you make me feel with that look in your eyes
You said you loved me did you lie?
What for? why?
I told you there would be no other
But you so easily find another
I should have known
I would never be able to call you my own
Next time I will know from the start
Expect pain when I give you my heart
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