Edward Allan

Wasting - Poem by Edward Allan

Misslead by those, are looking for nothing
missheard by those, words your not saying
drowning to escape, your on my arm to compensate
wasting time, wasting it till late
till its late, untill its too late, later than the easy limit
we still aint with it, but i'll try to give it to you anyway
dont be affraid cos if it gets too late
then we will find somewhere else to sleep

sat in your chair watching life undress itself for you, it means everything to you

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 11, 2005

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