Saturday, January 28, 2012

100 Years Gone By: A Baguio Tribute




"You.
You.
You are still a whisper on my lips.

A feeling at my fingertips,
That's pulling at my skin.

You leave me when I'm at my worst.

Feeling as if I've been cursed,
Bitter cold within.

Days go by and still I think of you.

Days when I couldn't live my life without you.
Days go by and still I think of you.
Days when I couldn't live my life without you.
Without you...
Without you"