I've not written anything for a long, long time, so I decided to look through my old poetry and I found an unfinished poem. I edited it a little and here it is:
Love Is A Stranger
There is nothing in my crowded mind,
I see things but they are all lies,
I can't say the truth that I don't mean,
I've wanted for nothing yet craved so much,
I've needed something that I've already got.
I thought I should continue, but I prefer it this way because it could be about anything.
Love Is A Stranger
There is nothing in my crowded mind,
I see things but they are all lies,
I can't say the truth that I don't mean,
I've wanted for nothing yet craved so much,
I've needed something that I've already got.
I thought I should continue, but I prefer it this way because it could be about anything.