“They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now”
The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of grief has drained me clean; Still it seems a pity No one saw,—it must have been Very pretty.
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“They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now”
“After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?”
“After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?”
“I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.”
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