The Nut

The writer

Behind the Wooden Wall

Emotions growing between
Things are starting to be more deep
Years passing by, their music always pressed on repeat
Life is fading, feelings dies
Tone of love has come to the end.

What to do, how to turn on the light
Will happiness ever be the same

Behind the wooden wall they will stay
With a wall of glass between
They can see, but not to touch
They can talk, but not to hear

Bond has broken, want no scar to be shown
Following, still feeling alone
Talking, still being alone
Laughing, no one smiles.

See a glimpse of light, white teeth shining in the black room.
Emotions growing between
Things are more deep. . .

Nutley  -08