Quite. Still.
Lost. Restless.
Within my little world.
And many have trodeen in and out.
And many have left. And many pushed to leaving.
And still some have stayed. Few. Rare.
I open my little diary. Pink. Again.
I know your regrets. I've carried them once.
And there's so much of shame. And there's so much of guilt.
And very little love. Be quiet. Be still.
I share my little heart. You. Here.
I know your touch. I know your taste.
And there's so much to give. So much to live for.
And time seems to be running away. Loud. Restless.
My heart.
