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Teen Poetry #9
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He's Coming Home
| Teen Poetry #9 |
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He's Coming Home |
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UNTAMEDelegance Member
since 2009-05-30
Posts 222Oregon |
He's coming home. My heart starts playing ping-pong with my ribs as the table. My breathing starts to play a funky rhythm; trying to be a musician. My eyes start trying to win the National Garden Watering contest. He's coming home. My mind finds out what it's like to be a merry-go-round. My knees want to become scientists and find out if gravity really works. My stomach decides to grow wings and take some lessons from butterflies. He's coming home. My hands convince me that there's an earthquake and we should be shaking. My feet grow roots and make pretend that we have become a tree. My whole body becomes a computer with a virus: !!!AUTOMATIC SHUTDOWN!!! He's coming home. My heart won't work. My chest won't work. My eyes won't work. My mind won't work. My knees won't work. My stomach won't work. My hands won't work. My feet won't work. My whole body won't work. All because the amazing, wonderful, caring, handsome, mysterious, loving man that I love is coming home. [This message has been edited by UNTAMEDelegance (02-24-2010 11:09 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2010 Melissa Reneé Axtell - All Rights Reserved | |||
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unfinishedlife Junior Member
since 2010-03-06
Posts 22 |
I enjoyed the comparisons in the first paragraph. |
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