“They’re writing songs of love
but not for me,” the strings say
as the bow pulls achingly
through my heart along the way.
I am drawn closer, so achingly closer
even as I want to run away.
“They’re writing songs of love
but not for me,” the strings say
as the bow pulls achingly
through my heart along the way.
I am drawn closer, so achingly closer
even as I want to run away.