Untitled

There is no life all round this love.
And that is why this love will die.
And all I said, would make you cry.

It's like no chest all round a heart.
With ev'ry shake and breath you take,
in danger that your heart might break.

There's nothing, as I said above -
no black, no white, no wrong, no right.
But most of all no need to fight.

Denying that we drift apart.
If it's untrue, why are we blue?
A coward says: "It's up to you..."

• Leer otras obras de Joe R.
• Enviar correo electróncio a Joe R.