I know when you read this you'll want a poem about the view in Montana, or some poor broken home-life.
Maybe you'll want a poetic tale about love at first sight.
I've noticed if you stand on the threshold of a door and over emphasize the details before you that seems to appease as well.
I know we'd all like if I threw some metaphors into this melting *** of a poem, or maybe some imagery onto the yellowing pages of this old and fragile notebook.
I know everyone would enjoy to see a poem about the true beauty found in life and through love, but I'm tired of poetry.