Photo Credit: Aaron Burden He missed, missed, misses, me This is what, I'd truly believe: But I know, know now, It was a charade working, against me He missed, missed, misses me, so, it seems But I know, know, know, now, we were never, Meant to be: I cried, cried, cried, Day and night, where tears seem To followed me: Yet, it did not bring, my beloved home, To me: A now, closed and fragile heart, Daydream that he did love, love, love me: Whose fault, is it? No one but the innocence of my, My precious heart that forgot The true meaning, of what love, Is supposed to be! Empress Journee