I write letters to the ones that matter
To the ones that care
Even passing on a flight of stairs
I look
She looks
Our lives could be words in a story book
I read her face
She reads mine
A poet wouldn’t believe how much we rhyme
I hold her
She holds me
I wonder if this is all dream
Each page of mine intwined in hers
As we fall asleep until our yet to be written verse
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
I write letters to the ones that matter
To the ones that care
Even passing on a flight of stairs
I look
She looks
Our lives could be words in a story book
I read her face
She reads mine
A poet wouldn’t believe how much we rhyme
I hold her
She holds me
I wonder if this is all dream
Each page of mine intwined in hers
As we fall asleep until our yet to be written verse
