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ochrePoems
My first passion was the arts, My first weapon was a brush, My first move was a stroke, Up down left right round and round My first masterpiece was an image of a boy and a girl, sitting on a bench, under a tree. The girl was leaning on the boy's shoulder, the boy was whispering something in her ear. My mother asked me, "Are they in love?" I said "No, they are just Young, Happy, and Innocent." Years have gone by. I ditched arts for writing, I ditched brushes for pens, I ditched strokes for words, 'I' 'love' You' And got my first broken heart. All I saw was myself, in my room sitting on the floor, leaning on my bedside, whispering, "I shouldn't have wrote that." My mother asked me, "Are you alright?" I said, "No. I am in love."
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Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
should have stayed young
My first passion was the arts, My first weapon was a brush, My first move was a stroke, Up down left right round and round My first masterpiece was an image of a boy and a girl, sitting on a bench, under a tree. The girl was leaning on the boy's shoulder, the boy was whispering something in her ear. My mother asked me, "Are they in love?" I said "No, they are just Young, Happy, and Innocent." Years have gone by. I ditched arts for writing, I ditched brushes for pens, I ditched strokes for words, 'I' 'love' You' And got my first broken heart. All I saw was myself, in my room sitting on the floor, leaning on my bedside, whispering, "I shouldn't have wrote that." My mother asked me, "Are you alright?" I said, "No. I am in love."
Written by
ochre
Filipino
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
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