Behind My Words
I'm picking paper from the floor...
Missing pages out my door...
I never really told the truth...
We were two in one that made a group...
It was easier to mold my words...
In a time where honesty was never heard...
I'm picking paper from the floor...
Lost in pages I could not ignore...
I seldom ever told the truth..
You had me falling through a hoop...
You never looked behind my lines...
So we melted in two seperate sky's...
Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2012
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