I'll come running,

if you ever want something, you call, you call
I'll come running to fight and I'll be at your door

you see you're just like everyone

# People who have visited my site:

and there's nothing worth running for

Hi my name is Grace and I like to read, write + fashion/graphic design and I abhor veggies + twitbuggers. I'm from EPPS/SHPS/NYGH/ISB (yes, I know, extensive) and I take Spanish as a third language! I really love Broadway *and* Taylor Swift. And random stuff like the soundtrack of the movie Once.

when your mind is made up

if you want something, you call, call

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I'll come running

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Saturday, June 20, 2009 / 10:03 PM

I Remember When

Shu Ning's quest for a simple site on the history and origins of Hinduism -and her subsequent random chat with me- reminded me of the time when we went to Panya. We sang The Lion Sleeps Tonight around the campfire, with Christian, I think, playing the guitar, and all the guys were having fun with that pipe instrument thingum which all of us had never seen before.

Pooh, I'm getting all mushymushy again. I always get like that when I remember good times. And then I feel like writing a poem. And then I remember what Eva Mendes -or maybe it was Eva Longaria (??) Parker, I always get them mixed up- said in the InStyle I just read, "I'm really good at writing bad poems." Same here, Eva-whoeveryouare, same here.

Anyway.

I see them walking down the street, holding hands,
and I remember

I see him buying flowers just because he felt like it,
and I remember

I see her dancing because he makes her feel so loved,
and I remember

I remember us walking down the street, holding hands,
and others saw us

I remember you buying flowers just because you felt like it,
and others saw you

I remember dancing because you made me feel so loved,
and others saw me

But we aren't gonna hold hands any more, are we
You aren't gonna buy flowers any more, are you
And I'm not gonna dance any more, am I
Because all that's in the past
You don't love me any more.

Super bad poem. IGNORE ME. IGNORE IT.

I'll come running,