When love is breaking its pieces to art
We make love being pieced back to One
When your heart is no longer my home
I wish I had brushes to paint you Rome.
When it’s breaking, it’s breaking
You know how it is...
When your hands are tied and blood rise high
When it’s breaking, it’s breaking
Side by side, no chances to survive.
Perhaps all that was supposed to mean...
We were broken in between.
I wish I had timelines in my hands
To go back in time and paint you stars that align
I wish I had brushes to draw you the lines
And warn you “It hurts. Be wise”.
..for the timeliness would reside,
Perhaps, it’s just not about time.
How cruel of life would that be,
To give me answers and leave me alone,
It’s like having remote without tv.
Choices sometimes have so little of what we can see.
“Oh child, be strong, you’ll find it when you let go.”
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