That I don’t know what I’m thinking,
And when I’m all caught up in my own world,
I start wishing.
For my lights and doors to be opened,
But my secrets become more hidden,
Than ever before,
I’m starting to lose, the things I was given.
Can you be someone for me?
Can you be what I need?
Can you be subtle in the way you move?
Can we be solemn in where we plant our feet?
© 2010 The Still Air
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