Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
My heart's a house and you're a room I never go in.
I still remember what it looks like.
The walls are red and it smells nice.
You could never pick your favorite song.
I bet it sounds amazing.
I wish I knew what it was.
Maybe I could sing it to you and you could love me the same.
Just like clouds shaped like *****.

Out of place?
You always seemed to laugh.
Bradley Gillespie
Written by
Bradley Gillespie  Pennsylvania
(Pennsylvania)   
523
   stΓ©phane noir
Please log in to view and add comments on poems