Half Past Three A corn flake floats in a bowl of milk I know it’s not really much to see, but it occupies my sleepy mind, sitting here alone half past three. The rain is falling down in sheets when I was searching for my key. The door opened to emptiness That’s when it became real to me. I still have the torn piece of paper that you gave me a long time ago, and now this warm rainy night sure feels like a cold winter snow. Some days I want to call you up. Some days I think it’s just a dream. No words could make it any better. Sometimes I just want to scream. I wonder why I was always yelling. I couldn’t see what I did to you. I lost my grasp of wrong and right. Now, I still can’t believe it’s true. A corn flake floats in a bowl of milk I know it’s not really much to see, but it occupies my sleepy mind, sitting here alone half past three.
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