One thing,
After another.
Not once, can we
Have a moment
To ourselves.
Trouble finds you,
One way or another.
Constantly,
Something,
Or someone,
Pops up
To tear us apart.
If it's not one thing,
It's another.
When it's nothing
With me,
It's something with you.
Is it true,
That I'm not meant
To have you?
Constantly,
I think about us.
Constantly,
I worry about us.
Constantly,
I cry over you.
Constantly,
I wish it wasn't true.
All I ever wanted,
was to be happy with you.
But I can't even have that,
Or a simple kiss from you.
Constantly,
This feels like goodbye.
And with these words,
Tears fill my eyes.
Constantly,
I wish for you.
Constantly,
I wish to run away
With
You.
Millie J. Skosher
