NOT A POEMS

i adore you i always see you with my beloving eyes "what a kindhearted man" i always hated love well i used to "none of it was ever woth the risk" paramore used to say until i see my own expectation of you went too far all i see from your text now are a stale moss because now my “the only expectation”’s are gone

isn't it romantic how i fool myself  everytime you come to me i strecth both of my arms to give you a big hug even tho i know i'm your only abandoned home

"finally you gave up on your love and come back to me" no, it's not over it all just started from that sentences because you only think of me when you don't have any other choices

i could've push your scared away i could've turn your gray into rainbow i could've be your beautiful story at night it was all so close until you torn all the white untouched pages 

maybe the clouds has a reason to be grey hearts that always willing to stay hands that always up to pray how foolish of me be blind in the midway until the last chapter of the book i can see one of us is a crook