• Underneath beds and in the dark.
    Lies our love that lost its spark.
    Memoirs of me and you
    Revived only in my literature.


    Our days have long been gone
    Pieces of our story fall one by one.
    The seasons have passed, the tears have dried.
    The pain inside, I cannot hide.


    The pitter-patter of rain,
    The sweet, sweet pain.
    Memoirs of me and you
    Revived only in my literature.


    stare