The way I see things
if I were Ted,
You'd be Robin.
All a series of broken strings.
I don't get a choice, not this time.
I'll always come back to you, no matter what.
Love is the best thing we do.
It’s our drive. To envy, lust and crime.
It's not love if I pick another.
It's not love. Not meant to be,
something silly. Forced upon, not by destiny.
You know it’s true. We've chemistry. You're not just a number.
No, it's not wise or safe to think of you -
Especially because we're not likely to ever happen.
Then why do I choose to torture myself?
Why do I aim at catching a bird, when it has already flew?
Is there a reason why I turn back?
For not trying to find a new soul to match
mine? I'm not afraid of the future.
I don't run back to the past. Waiting for my heart to crack.
Because it's love - It doesn't make sense.
I don't care if I get hurt. I don't mind beating myself up.
It's okay just looking at you and just be thinking -
How amazing you are - how wonderful must it be to be close to you, without any suspense.
You once said, that my face always brightens up
whenever I see you. And you're right.
That is that it because I see yours
brighter and more clearly than anything
Irrelevant of what you're wearing. Irrelevant of your makeup.
I don't want to part ways;
just these few months have been hell.
I want to take your hand and just hold it,
knowing it's mine for the rest of our days.
Though, I'm not clutching your hand.
Because I'm losing you. You're fading away.
I’m losing the real you. Not the idea of being with you.
And destructive as it may be, it is so damn grand.
What I’ve learnt from five great friends,
is that I can easily lose someone I love
someone who’s special. So I act.
I do something about it.
So that the possibility never ends.
Truth is, that I can’t promise that we’ll be together,
that you’ll be mine. That you’ll be in eternal happiness.
I can’t vow to be perfect. I vow that I’ll love you though.
When it’s sunny, overcast or stormy weather.
I get it why you’re scared. It’s okay to be afraid.
I, too, am frightened, lost, in between questions.
But why not think about tomorrow? The past is familiar
but as long as I’m with you, never in doubt, never betrayed.
Yet I must keep my calm. As I am thinking about tomorrow
when midnight has not even strike. Haste is not right.
If it has to happen, it’ll happen.
I don’t want to rush. So I’ll try and take it slow.
- And yes, I wrote this poem thinking of a certain bella,
taking lines from television. However, don’t discredit me
as I’ve meant every line written here, during this journey,
seeking the girl with the yellow umbrella.
I had always thought
That out of all the
In the world
Yellow was the worst
The embodiment of
The bright color burned at my eyes
As we stand in the dark
And you tuck a
Behind my ear
Isn't so bad
I used to believe
Was the most
The embodiment of
And the golden roses
That sat upon our table
Waiting for me after a long day
The bright color kissed at my eyes
As we stand in the light
Those roses darken
As our love grows old
Instead of the yellow
Now I sit here
Knowing the truth
It's a color
And the memories
Make it what it is
I cannot decide
For it was the color of
The color of
Fights and dark days
The color of
I cannot bring myself to hate it
For it is still
Of the roses
That you lay
Upon my gravestone
some colors make me happy
bananas are yellow,
rich in potassium
maybe my second favorite, currently
graceful like a duck
a taxi in a rainy urban area
the morning omelette
the sponge of my childhood, soaking up my happiness
the sun that grants me some radiance
the corn of the country side, butter n' all
like highlighter on PSSA preps, third grade
"it all must be important"
mac n' cheese
mac n' cheese
mac n' cheese
the school bus that takes me away
yellow, my fellow
just kidding but lately ive been enjoying and particularly favoring yellow
it brings a nostalgic happiness
coursing in his veins
the blood of yellow hue
a sure verification
of a coward's cue
men of courage bore
a darker shade of red
there was such bravery
in the way they bled
behind them the craven
one so weakly stood
they'd be taking the bullets
meant for his hood
yellow with dishonor
spineless of back
not having the gumption
to face an attack
his veins so desperately
bereft of fortitude
they were so inglorious
in their aptitude
Yellow – I am sun.
Up to this.
Yellow – I’m like gold.
A friend I lend
a hand and listen.
I am needle and thread,
the voice in your head
saying you’re fine.
And like the bread
I bake and break
you will rise!
My eyes tell you
to believe me,
Because I believe me.
Yellow looks like the most beautiful person in your life. It wasn't about the way they look, but how sunshine seems to part of their bloodstream. But Yellow has always loved the night. How the city lights reflect through their glistening eyes. Yellow knew all the right things to say. Their minds are the entire universe, filled with constellations and planets you have yet to understood. You didn't always understood Yellow, with their never-ending questions and poetry. But being understood was a foreign thing for Yellow. Maybe Yellow was better off not to be understood. There is a thin shield that blocks you from reading Yellow but they would trace their fingers through your skin as if you are the universe. You never saw yourself as the universe, only Yellow did. In fact, you saw yourself as an ordinary rock resting on top of the dirty soil. To be stepped and kicked. "But at least you are strong.", Yellow would say. Yellow would always find a way to spread light into the darkest parts of yourself. They introduced you to a corner of the world you never thought would ever exist.
Though you always believed that Yellow's force field has always kept you outside their door. Yellow has always made you feel like running through every mountain in the world, in hopes that you'll find someone like them. Yellow always smiled, despite their burning frustration. Yellow burned both in a good and bad way. They aren't the smoothest surface either. All you wanted was to be the one behind Yellow's light. Maybe you are. You never understood Yellow. You probably never will. And maybe that's how it should be.
I hate uncooked asparagus.
I hate the color yellow.
I hate reading romance novels and watching couples frolicking on the streets.
I hate clouds and how they hide such a beautiful blue sky.
I blonde haired blue eyed boys.
Yet I love you.
I love you, the boy that loves all I hate that is all I hate.
The boy with bleach blonde hair and cerulean blue eyes.
Who eats raw asparagus.
That loves the color yellow.
That loves reading romantic novels at the park just to see the couples frolic.
That loves how the clouds form as if foam over the sea.
That loves me.
Why is it I love someone that loves all I hate.
I hate love .
is a highly toxic, poisonous and soft metal used in many production processes, but mainly mixed with Sulfate to make the color yellow.
metal is suppose to be tough.
Not malleable, ductile and easily cut.
Polished to a lustrous finish but will corrode in due time.
I am Cadmium;
soft and easily cut, my finish does not last, I can be poisonous if you don't filter me.
But if you mix me correctly, I am a beautiful Yellow.