Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Autumn May 2014
Stephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Stephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.
This isn't my poem. It was written by Sara Teasdale. I just love it's simplicity.

— The End —