Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Marking Day.

Cold is sucha bitch, why must it befriend me and steal away my smile,
my mood, my health & worst, my look.

Damn it, Cold. My medicine will kill you.


Tell me why it has come to a point where even sorry cannot save it.
I am sick, I just wanted concern, yet it turned out to be a quarrel.
I hate quarrels, worst is you being vulgar.
When I am honest about talking to other guys with you, you aren't happy.
If I'm doing it, you ask me not to make it so obvious.
That's as good as cheating.
I just want to be frank. Looks like I'm doing it all wrong again.
God, can you make peace between us?


The loved one is always not around when I'm sick,
I want to be healthy, because I want him to always be around me.

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