agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ No risks
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-01-20 | |
Feeling cold and lonely in the snow
Waiting on a train to Bangor, He's thinking things I'll never know On the way to Bangor. Winter sun will not reveal To melt away his pain, All these things that he feels He can not explain. Leaves are falling off the trees, Tears are falling off his face, The train glides past these white seas On the way to a dying place. We walk through wind and snow and wet; We walk hand in hand. I ask him if he loves me yet But he doesn't understand. He says "It's best to hurt the ones you love, Render blind the ones who see", But Adam, when you slit that knife in Love like blood comes pouring out of me. Bangor skies are gray and brown, Bangor air is shrill and cold And as we walk through Bangor town You start to look so frail and old. But when you hold me very close To the hollow in your chest, You'll remember how you loved me most And how you loved me best. Bangor town, the end of the line, When a million more trains pass through, I'll always, always think of the time When all I needed was you.
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy