Uphill

George Maple

If I was your lover not a friend, would you look to me when
you’re searching for answers?
If I  broke your heart and let you fall, would you still spiral
down and scatter roses on my hole?
And I would be stuck between these photographs, throwing
away all my cards, running out of excuses to keep my eyes wide shut. Throwing away all my cards, sleeping
undercover with one eye open and I will be stuck between these photographs,
trying to resist from watching this one way barrier with my words and this two way
battle for affection…

 

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