Crowd fraude

The thing is,
You say to me,
You look for my face,
In every crowd,
That's how much you,
Miss me,
It does not sound,
Romantic,
Sweet,
Or as love,
At all.
It merely strikes me,
As odd,
See I am,
Not the one,
Following the crowd,
I find my comford,
In being seperated,
From the belending into,
Obvlion,
The crowd hand me,
So if you'd really loved me,
You studied my every move,
You'd knew the way I think,
An what I do,
Before I know myself,
So you would know,
That when you Miss me,
You won't ever scearch the crowd,
For you will not find me there,
I am on the exact opposite side.
You love me I know,
Yet you cant love me,
In fact you dont,
See you dont know the real me,
Your in love with the face,
You look for in the crowd,
And I ain't ever gonna be,
That girl.


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