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 Oct 2014 J M Baker
nathanthepoet
i like them big,
i like them small.
i have to say,
i like them all.
As I walk through the rain
I wonder to myself "Is there love out there?"
I've been through all this pain
Life so far has not been fair
I wanna find someone strong and good
Someone to actually care

Just what has life come to
Walking in the rain despaired
Tormented by the things they do
And now my soul is impaired
Need to find something true
Freedom from a life ensnared


I want a boy. No, I need a man
This lonely life has lasted too long
I want someone to hold my hand
And sing me a loving song
Maybe hold my umbrella too
Why is that so wrong?

I need something. No, someone
To help me clarify this lie
I want a woman who won't run
When she looks into my eyes
Someone to mend the damage done
An angel to quell my smouldering skies


I need eyes of an emerald green
With depths I feel in my core
The poetic man from my dreams
Not like the men from before
Who've simply thrown me away
And walked right out the door

Wouldn't benign eyes be nice
Hands to calm shattered nerves
Giving up on rolling dice
Want to find my heaven deserved
An open heart does so entice
I don't think it sounds so absurd


He would have been hurt in the past
But I could show him what love means
Showing him my heart is my mask
And I'm obviously an angel from his dreams
I will slowly mend his broken soul
That's been battered and ripped at the seams

*I will be her saving grace
Repair both her angelic wings
I have dreamed of her face
She's the one whom settles things
Her heart I will lovingly trace
For as long as forever brings
A love story.  ❤
Pt.2 to be posted tomorrow night. :)
Frank is just the biggest sweetheart whom I've grown to love. I hope you all enjoy this as much as we did writing it. :)
 Oct 2014 J M Baker
Addison René
i used to write about being sad -
the things i know:
how my fingers constantly grasped for
metacarpals the never really
fit with in mine
and how only the fire
that i poured down my throat
made me utter the words,
"i love you".
now i struggle upon embracing
how the drowsy-eyed glances
turned into sacharine stares,
the whispers of "you could love me",
places on top of mountains,
and freckles that i can count;
every single one of them.
if they say,
"write about what you know",
then where do i even start
about all of the things i don't?
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