Hermoine

When love is a clumsy dare, three missed trains, makes my face solemn , red is a wonderful flare, that love should stay, instead of being forgotten, lines going nowhere, the drink I splashed away, nights of ached for care, play them like a solitaire , I’ll never change, always pay at dealing, on the cafe' square, trees in the cold rain, cigarette smoke catches, my mother at her worst, rushes me through each day, that I should be someone, It's better my way.