Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sometimes she’s got me spun
Into some twisted web
I want only to run
My strength slowly does ebb
And fade and drift away
Into a thick black mist
I’m held under a sway
And hope does not exist
Inside my troubled mind
Which argues back and forth
I cannot seem to find
For what it all is worth.
But when I see those cheerful eyes
And hear her voice, my sorrow dies.

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