Us

Crows feet, in the corners of my eyes. Seems to me like a stamp of frustration, brewed to a wrinkle in the face of time or at least in face of mine. Crimes , are a mystery, in need of a dective. Crimes of emotion . Are crimes that are in the need of love. Or a shimmer of hope. Try , to stay sober. In need of ,methods to cope. So, pour me my answers and smoke me some insight. Cuz ,all my love is frightened by your trickery. And my world has turned all black. It's, so cold and lonely. When your love stabs you in your back. So, wiery of excuses. So, tired of tanted trust. All alone again ,cuz with no you. There can't be an us.