seven days

seven days ago,
not very long before,
i met a strange door,
i spoke to the things so new,
i even told them of me and who,
bit by bit i came and drew
a conclusion that i was not new.
The next hours we dangled in,
for a few seconds we threw questions in a bin,
nothing really mattered in this old skin,
so we drove past the and thick and thin.
The blood warmed up at the presence of her,
she knew what she wanted beneath the stir,
so i passsed along and told her so,
I came to know she was just a throw in and fro.
now she's not here i sit along,
wandering if all that lasted forlon,
strangled beneath a pretence of dawn,
that never came and sensed a song,
so beautiful as her more than the morn.