Who said I was yours,
Who said you was mine.
The tale of two cities'
Are we two of a kind ?
We meet in the middle,
Neither here nor there.
How can this be surly fair?
You are one side,
I am the other.
The language is the key,
The words, are they from me ?
Many watch in wonder,
None does truly see,
set in the silk of a meek world,
Where do they all ponder.
No trees to be seen,
From the poets dreams.
A world of slumber,
In that of a dream.
Sleeping is the number,
Of the poet to be seen.
