The art of woo.

I'm surrounded by hate. Cunsumed by fear, knowing-love's lost it's fate. Torment my ear, with my last serinade, reapear. I smile at your voice. I listen to your eyes. I touch your words. I hate goodbyes. (I get knocked down i get up again your never gonna keep me down) these are to different poems that make since no matter how you read them flip flop them and try it. I'm pretty sure the last thing in parenthecies is actually the chorus of a song from the ninties.