Tuesday, April 29, 2014


It was a weird time to go look for inspiration,
In this rainy April afternoon,
I knew what I was looking for wouldn't come soon,
So I made it up,
With my head as my own creation,
It seemed perfect,
Yet so defect,
To make inspiration up,
Like stealing a paint cup...
So I went back to all the memories of me writing about you,
And suddenly I realized why I was bleu,
Its because Im over you,
There was nothing more to write,
For it faded you're light,
And I don't want to be inspired by someone,
Who makes me feel like Im just anyone,
And that is exactly what you do,
In my mind you were much better,
You kept me,
And I wrote you a love letter,
And you know what I bet,
That to at least one friend you've said,
That you think I write about you,
That you're my muse,
But you overestimated yourself we never really had a fuse, 
You're own words darling,
You're just so vain isn't it alarming?! 
Oh darling, darling...
It was an odd time for finding what I wanted,
But I found it anyway,
It was already handed...

inspiration comes from you're words 

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