All I have of you, are things;
packed in barrels, filled with love.
Memories of a woman I feel nothing for,
i am the image of that face, I now abhor.
All I know of you, are words;
written with emotions, I have never heard.
I’m thankful for the bill enclosed,
payment for our wounded souls.
All I hear from you, is your voice;
filled with promises, made from your choice.
Words that no longer hold true to me,
my own survival keeps my sanity.
Come with hugs, let me grin;
stop packing barrels with all these things.
Hold me tight and don’t let go,
let me love you and watch me grow.