By morning her depression haunt's her
By midday boredom gets her
So the mall she pays a visit...
And night the bookstore calleth her,
As she gets lost in her dream's
Whilst reading strange novels
And romantic things....

She stay's and read's for hour's
Fixed with her eyes glued
Forgetting the world behind her
She's a serpahim stuck in global noose...
As tis she leaveth
The book palace and goes to the park,
She sits in her car reading
Poem's on H.P by lonely heart's...
As tis this moment shes not lonesome
She stareth at her moon.
All her daily sorrow's
Art gone in her orb so true...
Though tis she still thinketh of me
In the back of her mind,
I'm just glad when she responds to me
To telleth me she is mine!!!!!!
As mine heart doth flutter
To a happiness of sweet divine....




©Brandon nagley ( lonesome poet's poetry)