untitled whatevers.

It's what you say to me that matters,
And when you touch my hand, I feel,
Sometimes, I wish I'd kept things careless,
Instead of trying "something real".

I never wanted Saturday,
Or any other day to pass,
But I'll be with you, come what may,
Looking out through shattered glass.

Then; when you'd say my name, I'd forget,
And now, I think it'd be the same,
I look to you in times of doubt, but
I know I'm just your little game.

I never wanted you to go,
Or those measures of time to pass,
But I'll be with you, true and true,
Looking on through shattered glass...

...to be continued. I actually wrote a rhyming thingy that I don't hate. *proud of self*