Sometimes love, means letting go. You fail to recognize the love still burning in her eyes, and the hopeless residue that still remains. You blame the deceitful and fail to see, that it was all in your name. A flower cannot bloom, without room to entangle its roots. A rosebud cannot blossom without sun light, and research shows Dandelions always fly home.
To you she is a weed, plucked from concrete.
But she, she is a yellow petal, ripped from a broken hearted teen:
"she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not..."
She is the flower you are the sun,
but nighttime must come
before a new day has begun.
Yours Sincerely.
To you she is a weed, plucked from concrete.
But she, she is a yellow petal, ripped from a broken hearted teen:
"she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not..."
She is the flower you are the sun,
but nighttime must come
before a new day has begun.
Yours Sincerely.
