You ask for my aid, and I give my word
Help it will come, but for you it’s blurred
Relaying your need, the channels are true
But from your position, all it is askew
I broke my promise, by no fault of mine
But you pay the price, communicative decline
This entry was posted by Zardilann on November 1, 2015 at 08:00, and is filed under Poems, Writing.Both comments and pings are currently closed.
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