Is not a permanence, but a perchance
Such meanors one must notice early
Lest should fall prey to the blinds of love
She could be angry, she could be not
And to be pacified is the ask, sans words
Turn around, walk away my boy
Such is the conduct of an childish mind
If jealousy should raise its head and peer
Upon your meets and greetings of dear
Turn around, walk away my boy quick
Such is the hiss of a serpentine strike
And if she leaves, and as most do of late
Ask her for a reason, yet only once
Then promptly walk away my boy, run
The mature do not need to be gambled for.
If she reaches your heart, brings calm
Even post the distance, her heart is warm
Know she is for love, hold her hand
Drown in her thoughts, bring her along
No comments:
Post a Comment