She’s an endless parade.
She’s an escapade.
She works for days,
sleeping on minimum wage.
He use to call every night,
But now, he doesn’t seem to have the time.
Maybe he forgot her,
maybe its over.
And when the wind blows over her head,
what’s to stop her from falling over dead?
And she wonders what happened?
Didn’t he see what could have been?
The nights they shared,
couldn’t compare,
to the weight of the world,
and how its not always fair.
So she cries, every night,
and he just gets into fights.
So what’s it matter?
So what’s the matter?
And when the wind blows over her head,
what’s to stop her from falling over dead?
And she doesn’t seem to be getting better.
And he spend his nights writing letters…
“Dear love, its been two weeks,
do you still think of me?
I remember that walk we had,
and how I made you laugh.
But its getting hard for me, to stick around,
And you need to know, I’ve get out of this town.”
He use to call every night,
But now, he doesn’t seem to have the time.
The nights they shared,
couldn’t compare,
to the weight of the world,
and how its not always fair.
I love how it tells a story, a beatiful but sad story. Nicely written.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very sad and I love it.