Haven’t written poetry in a few weeks..
She’s a fan of gravity, he’s a fan of space
and all of her’s he tried to waste
he’ll tell you he’s another St. Stephen
she know’s him better, he’s headed toward treason
maybe it means nothing
maybe it means nothing
maybe it means everything you choose not to see
They are not together here, four in between
city so quiet, tranquilized it seems
I’ll teach her to be bold, with her hands to guide her
feet slip too fleetingly, I’ll stand beside her
maybe it means nothing
maybe it means nothing
maybe it means everything you choose to be
Run, run, gather the world inside
feel, speak, after all, no way to hide
stars dancing on a carpet in the sky for you
he can’t hurt you, you know the truth
maybe it means nothing
maybe it means nothing
maybe it means everything, you’re safe in the lime tree
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