I knew a girl once
I liked her even,
but she wasnt so sure
Maybe she liked me
And believed I was pure
See I was a writer and she a poet
My pen stole her heart
Perhaps then she had known it
Each line I wrote, fufilled her fantasies
Illustrating things blind to common folk
Her sweetness grew on me
Even the innocence in her ink
But like I said she wasn't so sure
Was it my fault my feelings didn't conjure
My ego is bold and my writing takes over
Wearing my heart on my sleeve
I think thats what drove her
But then again
Intellectual love, rare to come by
We let it go, and feelings die
Still pondering on our first kiss
Life is fleeting and you will be missed.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 6:18 PM UTC
I knew a girl once
I liked her even,
but she wasnt so sure
Maybe she liked me
And believed I was pure
See I was a writer and she a poet
My pen stole her heart
Perhaps then she had known it
Each line I wrote, fufilled her fantasies
Illustrating things blind to common folk
Her sweetness grew on me
Even the innocence in her ink
But like I said she wasn't so sure
Was it my fault my feelings didn't conjure
My ego is bold and my writing takes over
Wearing my heart on my sleeve
I think thats what drove her
But then again
Intellectual love, rare to come by
We let it go, and feelings die
Still pondering on our first kiss
Life is fleeting and you will be missed.
