god created liquour so the irish wouldn't rule the world.
she wrote about me, what does that mean
where does that leave us
so many things i need to get off my chest
i want her; i love her
how and where do i begin
we shared a dance and i had no clue
years pass and i feel the same
why didn't she tell me this earlier
saving me the angst and frustation
we floated on the breath of angels that night
her body pressed to mine
i can sill feel her back on my fingers
the softness of her body
it still haunts my thoughts and dreams
does she still think of me that way?
that is the question?
- jared black
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