A VERSE OF SORTS

We often speak of dreams like memories,

But dispute what we’ve really seen,

We often watch romances so jealously,

But never look for it off screen,

Why can’t we find love like that we all cry,

Letting the perfect opportunity slip by,

I haven’t got time left for chasing,

I haven’t got energy left for guessing,

Will you come find me instead,

All this searching has ruined my head,

Only using my phone to write these poems,

Not even writing more just moaning,

If I put this to music the world might listen,

I’d find you and find what’s been missing,

Until then I’ll keep self-helping,

I can get by with booze and some sleep,

Wake me up when you get here,

I’ll try not to run when you come near.

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