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Writers_blockPoems
Of **** It's that feeling that you can't quite describe That pit in your stomach that keeps swirling around Like a cat chasing its tale Urmm this is what I live for I love it But i hate it The anticipation The fantasies It's so much more fun too build up Your going to have too hold me down *** i'm flying through my imagination Thinking of the possiblities They're endless A stranger Yet someone I've seen a thousand times before I've lost myself to fiction Somewhere between Peter Pan and Cinderella I can't control my movements I'll jump in excitement Over a simple thought of us brushing against eachother As we pass by Nervous yet Invigorated What will this unveil?
0
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
Sparks.
Of **** It's that feeling that you can't quite describe That pit in your stomach that keeps swirling around Like a cat chasing its tale Urmm this is what I live for I love it But i hate it The anticipation The fantasies It's so much more fun too build up Your going to have too hold me down *** i'm flying through my imagination Thinking of the possiblities They're endless A stranger Yet someone I've seen a thousand times before I've lost myself to fiction Somewhere between Peter Pan and Cinderella I can't control my movements I'll jump in excitement Over a simple thought of us brushing against eachother As we pass by Nervous yet Invigorated What will this unveil?
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Writers_block
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
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