Come sit with me on our bed, my friend
As close to me as you can get
lest you fall off the edge
Hold on tight, honey
This ride isn’t for the faint of
Heart loses but that’s not important
We are only a fantasy; isn’t that right?
You never expected truth.
I called you yellow and you fired back red
but this room is green, what’s old really isn’t new
So put a fresh paint of coat on it
turn out the lights and play pretend
Tomorrow’s a new day; you will fall again
Better warn her not to hold onto you for dear life.
This poem was written in the late 90s.