Juliane Hatfield
Hotels
I miss the sound of laughter. The children down the street. I may not find
an answer. It's only memories. Hotels welcome me when I need a home. Days
are getting shorter and the night wind in the trees and the soft skin on
your shoulder and the way you wanted me. Hotels. Think of me when I'm
leaving. Will you give this to my mother? Once again, it's time to leave.
There's no ever after. There's only in between. Hotels welcome me when I
need a home. Hotels.
From Letras Mania