Dark Poetry #4 |
A Shy Boy |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
It hurts like the hands that touch me Always falling into my heart, Never releasing its hold. There aren’t many turns to never land, Only catchers with dreams as big as their gloves, Fiddling for the rising sun. I see the picture, Then I hurt, As I fall for dark skin and well… Those eyes are just divine, Such like the moon is to night, For dances are best when there are whispers to be heard. The best is yet to come, But I wish I still knew her, And stapled her to my memory. We met at a young age, Like the morning dew, Yet fired through days for the sake of it. I didn’t know her true intentions, Yet I felt as happy as my hands reaching for candy, Only to grasp for more. It didn’t last long, And we didn’t truly find each other, Only because I was to scared to look up and speak to her. We are in different places now, I still daydream, she probably has forgotten, But I wish she were laughing with me. If I saw her, I would probably freeze, Then hope the words that flowed into my eyes were, "I was waiting". |
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Lexy Senior Member
since 2003-01-28
Posts 1038California |
oh. that hope that never quite dies. that love that never quite does either. aren't these the innocent times we long for. I felt this one. |
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s1nfully_1nn0c3nt Senior Member
since 2003-10-26
Posts 1105Watertown, NY |
Loved This....Great Write! "Trina" Happiness Runs From Me, For I Am It's Enemy, Anyone Who Has It, Is Someone I Envy... |
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