The mist rolls in over my eyes
Short deep breathes, I seize up and cry
Some digital dream, just did this to me
The lovers just kissed and left by the sea
I’ve had this soft spot waiting to break free
But I’ve always stood like the mighty oak tree
Even the slightest wind has an effect on me
Now I’m a willow bending at the weak knee
© 2011 Michael Yost
Michael's Lair 