Crutches

10 Jun

Those words you wrote for me then, well I can remember them all,

They sit, doused in white wine, and on wild nights stagger and fall,

I try to be a good man,

But I know that I may never be,

And still, I dream,

Yes still, I dream.

 

So we break our bones,

But as long as there’s love we can hope,

We’ll make crutches for our hearts,

And they’ll help us to cope.

 

I gained these calluses back in the winter when I became lost,

They numbed the wind-chill, the side of the bed that was smothered in frost.

I have put them to good use,

They’ve saved me from bite marks and scars,

But they’re put aside for now,

They’re put aside for now.

 

So we take small steps,

There’s still time to waste and to give,

And forget what we’ve lost,

Just remember to live.

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