Perfect
Your idea of perfect
And mine don’t coincide
And there’s nothing left between us
No dreams left to confide
It wouldn’t matter if there were
You’ve lost interest in me
Unless there’s something you want
Then I’m what you want me to be
And you apologize
So we can be friends
Until you’re mad again
And then the friendship ends.
Then all the sweet words fade
And promises are gone
Once again I realize
It was all just a con.
Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.
Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| blur | 4 | 07/06/2009 |
| What I need | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Hidden | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Rose | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Last Generation | 1 | 07/06/2009 |
| Echoes | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Escape | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Perfect | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Tact | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Destiny | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Slices of Reality | 0 | 07/06/2009 |
| Inside Me | 2 | 01/29/2009 |
| I See | 0 | 01/29/2009 |
| Sacrifice | 1 | 01/29/2009 |
| Grace | 1 | 01/29/2009 |
| Illusion | 5 | 01/29/2009 |
| Hidden | 0 | 01/29/2009 |
| Yesteryear | 0 | 01/29/2009 |
| Guile | 1 | 01/29/2009 |
| Deception | 0 | 01/29/2009 |
| Salvation | 0 | 01/29/2009 |
| Rage | 1 | 01/29/2009 |
| Voyage | 1 | 01/29/2009 |
| I Am | 0 | 01/29/2009 |
| Sold My Soul | 3 | 01/29/2009 |
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