Date: Monday, June 17, 1996  4:06pm                             Forum: Poetry
From: PlAsTiC GiRl                                               Msg#: 646670
  To: ** ALL **                                                              
  Re:                                                                        
                                                                    (1 reply)

The green in your eyes,
is turning to black,
and your soft warm hands,
now feel like a prick from a tack.

You knew what i wanted,
But you denied me the pass,
That would have brought me to you,
And the greener grass.

But now that you have dissapeared,
I cant rememeber why,
I said I loved you,
And why i chose to cry.

-AC