Its my weakness. Its my pride.
Its everything. Its nothing.
It never ends. It ceases when challenged.
Its big. Its small.
Its my asset. Its my fault.
Its my hope. Its my misery.
It fools me. I fool it.
Its a paradox.
Its love. Or is it?
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
What you so concerned about ur self poo, just relax and maybe its love. Dont analyze ur self so much.
Seriously, too good!
It is.
:)
thanks guys
lovely words...!
babes....i didnt know u wrote poetry....this is a brilliant piece of writing :)
thanks jess :)
Post a Comment