The Song
The song comes on the radio,
It must be summertime.
You are the calm; the storm is all mine.
You never wanted me in your life.
I wanted someone to come home to;
I wanted the song to be about you.
I took your pictures off the wall,
This is not our home,
This is not my call.
Swearing, "We could have had it all."
You never wanted to fall.
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