Young Love at its Best
By anniebella
She has hair of gold, Eyes of blue-gray, And you swear your heart Is given away. You love her. You hate her. Its all just the same. She loves you. She hates you. Its all just a game. Your game of love Is "So simple," you jest. This game of love Is young love at its best. If only you could see The innocence you posses But, you are all grown-up With young love at its best. I want to help So bad it hurts, For around the corner Is where heartache lurks. I hope and pray She wont break your heart. I hope and pray Your game doesn't tear you apart. But if it does, Always know- The love inside you Forever grows For another and another With hair of gold, eyes of blue-gray. And again, You swear your heart is given away. *dedicated to my little brother-may you win this game. Written September 7th, 2000 © on Oct 03 2001 11:15 AM PST 18 • 0 • 8
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"She has hair of gold,..."