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Accidents
January 4, 2011
You fell right through my skinny grip,
past my hip, and then got hit.
My perfect match gone like that,
like a baseball hit with a bat.
I don't know how, but I can tell inside
that it is time for me to run and hide.
Don't look, and do not listen,
like a light that wont stop to glisten.
Say goodbye,
she might just die,
and now I know how much I care,
I know I can not bear,
another night with out you.
With a bang or maybe hang,
I know all sorts of ways
to get out of this crazy daze
and be with you.
© Hanna R., Milford, NJ
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