And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY- I sit by the sea wall, willing the waves to stay. Pulling away with gentle abandon – they avenge me for doing the same.
M.K. STANDBY
- black
- grey
- blue
- red
- brown
- white
I sit by the sea wall, willing the waves to stay. Pulling away with gentle abandon – they avenge me for doing the same.
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY -
You are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
M.K. STANDBYYou are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
M.K. STANDBY -
Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
M.K. STANDBYYour kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
M.K. STANDBY -
A fight of a thousand years – the smart mind and the hopeful heart.
M.K. STANDBYA fight of a thousand years – the smart mind and the hopeful heart.
M.K. STANDBY -
I wished to every fountain, prayed to every god but some futures are set in stone – so here we go again.
M.K. STANDBY -
Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
M.K. STANDBYWords hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
M.K. STANDBY -
My throat burns with the words left unspoken, air hangs still and silence hides the words you long to hear – stay.
M.K. STANDBYMy throat burns with the words left unspoken, air hangs still and silence hides the words you long to hear – stay.
M.K. STANDBY -
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBYMy thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY -
Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBYDon’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY -
Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBYPeace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBY -
The knot in a grain of wood, a frost covering sodden grass. Mornings warmed by the rising sun and brewing coffee – the vision of the poet.
M.K. STANDBYThe knot in a grain of wood, a frost covering sodden grass. Mornings warmed by the rising sun and brewing coffee – the vision of the poet.
M.K. STANDBY -
I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.
M.K. STANDBY -
Hollow intent and echoes affection, a call with no response. Who could trust a dormant heart – where apathy is shaped like love?
M.K. STANDBY -
And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
M.K. STANDBYAnd in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
M.K. STANDBY -
I think the scars that you left me, they remind me you were real.
M.K. STANDBYI think the scars that you left me, they remind me you were real.
M.K. STANDBY -
Scribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
M.K. STANDBYScribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
M.K. STANDBY


