Even vrijdag gemaakt geloof ik of donderdag (vorige week)
sprong zo in m'n kop
Zoals bij alle gedichten (dus ook deze) heeft de maker ervan (ik dus) een bepaald gevoel/melodie erbij. daarom kan het voor sommige mensen die dat gevoel of deuntje niet kennen, het soms vaag over komen (rare en/of geforceerde rijm of zo).
Ik ga verder ook geen uitleg geven over de inhoud, want dat is iets wat ik voor mezelf hou, met deze 'post' deel ik al veel te veel van me zelf.
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Came there at night
It was eleven o’ clock
My aunt and my cousins, were waiting me up
I talked with her before, and seen her glance
It was like I was in some sort of hypnotic trance
And they drove me down
To her home
We both were so shy
But they all could see
That there was something growing in me
I never had the chance to say it to her,
But now if I think about, still I’m not sure
And I spend time there
At her home
We played and we laughed
We searched and spent
Never would have thought it, never would I went.
She let me in, but also let me out
Like she wooded care, or wouldn’t care about
Near that place
Near home
I slept in here room,
I even slept with her
Love can be harmful, love makes it cure
I slept on ground, in the wood
Always love her, always in the moot
And I was in
In there
But like all good things
So also this one
To good to be true, she only wants fun
As I cry for her, like I do every day
Drownin’ myself, with the tears of her play
And I’m done
I’m finished
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