Read Poems by
Three months is date
Six months our hearts pulsate
Ninth month is here
If there isn't hate
Then soon will be a year
We're really to believe it to be fate?
Smothering ourselves in this theory
A concept based solely upon the idealistic "soulmate"
By this, we incorrigibly infatuate
Neglecting what's real
Ignorantly becoming our own hostages
Essentially an internal inmate
Prisoners who fear
And self mutilate
We're sitting patiently as we wait
Just to wait
Playing these games we're burdened to tolerate
But in the end I'm betting all that I've got
Betting on the most evident of facts
As I'll always be the first to call...