The Last Dance

Everyone longs to be loved
What can I say about that?
The door to the heart is open and shut
Like the warmth of your breath

Everyone longs to be heard
But we tend to get caught in the noise
What I’d give, how far I would search
If I lost your love and lost your voice

The lengths I would go to see your face
I’d stand in the pouring rain
Just to feel your perfect grace
As If this was our last chance

Stoic Poetry


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