Sitting on a cold, hard, wooden floor,
leaning against cold, hard, rocky walls,
listening to cold, hard, heartfelt lyrics,
writing some cold, hard, rough draft poetry;
hoping for a little warmth,
like a few left feet on a wooden floor,
sparking like two frictional stones,
while listening to your steadily cool heartbeat
to motivate this rough draft into a masterpiece of marinated inspiration.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
Sitting on a cold, hard, wooden floor,
leaning against cold, hard, rocky walls,
listening to cold, hard, heartfelt lyrics,
writing some cold, hard, rough draft poetry;
hoping for a little warmth,
like a few left feet on a wooden floor,
sparking like two frictional stones,
while listening to your steadily cool heartbeat
to motivate this rough draft into a masterpiece of marinated inspiration.
5/8/2018
I was bored, sitting on a cold, hard floor, against a cold, hard wall, listening to some old Taylor Swift because I don’t have WiFi and that is what is available in my iTunes library. ❤️ Oh... and I wrote this.
Request permission to use this poem