Baby O!
I'm drunk in love,
Bleedin with amour.
Geet you are,
With fragrant breath.
More of paramour,
Looting my heart.
Intoxicated with coquetry .
We ought not quarrel.
Terminating this courtship,
Makes me pensive.
Flowers blossom;
But you blossom more
Stock in my heart,
Never letting you go;
For you're mon amour.
Being guilty of your love,
Detained and prosecuted,
By the state of ecstasy.
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
Baby O!
I'm drunk in love,
Bleedin with amour.
Geet you are,
With fragrant breath.
More of paramour,
Looting my heart.
Intoxicated with coquetry .
We ought not quarrel.
Terminating this courtship,
Makes me pensive.
Flowers blossom;
But you blossom more
Stock in my heart,
Never letting you go;
For you're mon amour.
Being guilty of your love,
Detained and prosecuted,
By the state of ecstasy.
People often follow the way of their heart, seeing someone or something you can't exist without. For the sake of my heart desires; I was indeed pushed to the wall to pen down this poem, "Mon Amour".
This poem expressed how glue I'm to my heart desires.
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