Using your hand, helping, 'your love returns.
I entreat you the sun warms my center.
Staining my window,
clouds white washed away as you watch.
If my true love leaves you alone again
tonight, as for me,
'someone else dug, my grave.
Which some one i think, already is.
Is It Poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/staining-my-window/
