after four years
of waiting
every afternoon
i am now
sitting with you,
alone in my bedroom
the fan on high
a glass of vodka
at my bedside
the sounds
of may thunder
coming in thru open windows
i take the last drink
and touch your hand
as the sun sets
over our lives
of waiting
every afternoon
i am now
sitting with you,
alone in my bedroom
the fan on high
a glass of vodka
at my bedside
the sounds
of may thunder
coming in thru open windows
i take the last drink
and touch your hand
as the sun sets
over our lives
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
[Edited on May 22, 2004 10:10PM]