Monday, December 6, 2010

No.

You don't know what I'm like.
The bits that make up my life
are as you said,
trivial for you.
My little joys
are alien to you

What then, should we base our love on?

Songs do not make you cry.
Stars don't make you wonder.

A dreamer for me.
For you, I do not know.
Not me, surely.

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