It’s hard to count how many stars
are falling down tonight,
while we’re awake for one last dance
To try and make it right.
It’s hard to tell how many eyes
Are looking down at us
As we’re confusing truth with lies
And shadows of the past.
How many voices in our heads
Are speaking from within?
How many lovers and lost friends
It takes for us to win?
It’s hard to finish with this dance
And let go of your hand,
To let go on the one last chance
And let it all to end.
***
© Copyright: Люба Тихомирова, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120101905807
Свидетельство о публикации №120101905807
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