#poemsaboutlove
i love you that much
so when there is
a choice
between you and me
i choose to love
May 16, 2025
May 16, 2025 at 4:34 PM UTC
maybe
i love you
because
i don’t know what love is
i’m sure
i do
but for you
i don’t want to follow the rules
May 10, 2025
May 10, 2025 at 6:01 PM UTC
you can drink how much you want
but you will never see me in her
you can find another girl
who jokes the same as I did before
who laughs the same, who smiles the same
but it will never be me again
Mar 26, 2025
Mar 26, 2025 at 2:09 PM UTC
Beautiful you are, a pretty shower.
You wash away all the dismay,
so gentle you are with me, falling
each day so that we may meet
even if our river runs dry you peak
at a point that touches rain's feet.
Surrounded by birds and tree's,
an atmosphere with calm scenery
and yet still your eyes pour down
drowning like a pool of love only;
upon me.
Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 4:32 AM UTC
Despite how it might end
despite the uncertainty
you fall
and you fall
and you keep falling
in love!!!
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
Roaming the fields of love
With his Heart in a dark glove
He saw from a far distance
A creature with perfect appearance
This creature was rather perfect
It hit like a storybook affect
She gazed the hallway
With some sort of allay
Her presence to him felt affray
Like some sort of aggressive lay
It felt like an ever winding journey through the blear
So far away from here,
Yet trying to draw them near
He came close asked her name with a delay of response; she smiled and said: Tabitha is mine name.
With a look of satisfaction on his face
He smiled and murmured to himself "Little Girl"
And there they both knew
It was meant to be
Or was it?
He gave her flowers everyday
But;
She picked all the pedals off of all the flowers
But in her heart;
She knew he loved her
Or did he?
_Debbie Doll
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
10 pm in front of Chipotle
and you said, this is my [rusty] Chevy [something],
which had a radio that played exceptional static
for us to tune out on the trek to Mount Washington.
It was raining, but we had already driven all that way
and so we stood outside anyways
in the low hanging clouds above Pittsburgh.
I said, I’ve never been on a date
with a girl before.
And you said, is it everything you thought it’d be?
And with that
we decided to see who could throw a rock the farthest
[which you won]
and who could name more constellations
[which nobody won, because there
were no stars in sight on that Tuesday night].
Then the couple next to us left
and a new one arrived
and the blanket of fog temporarily lifted
to reveal the UPMC logo.
We watched as the number of tiny office lights
diminished, looking a little bit like an end of the world
power outage in slow motion—
and we silently shrunk in the weight of the moment
as the Earth turned and dragged the seconds along,
and the water of the Allegheny and Monongahela
merged into the Ohio the way our bodies connected at the hands;
two posterchildlesbians showing a city
how
to
fall
in love.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
Untimely,
The old woman's life had been made undying.
Her husband looked down,
Awaiting her with a frown.
And all the while the woman mirrored this frown,
And stared upon her velvet gown,
Looking for the words to fit her despair,
And causing stress upon her old hair.
The witch had found this to be her accomplishment,
Despite God's look of judgement,
Sealing the witch's fate,
Hanging her body like bait.
But still the woman sat,
With a velvet gown and a hat,
Hunched over on her rocking chair,
Playing with her gray hair,
Knitting more than just a shirt,
And feeling very hurt.
Her husband's voice still sounding fresh inside her head,
She killed herself and was laid upon her bed.
And God looked down with another sea of disapproval,
For a sin is a sin,
For a law is a law,
Her ghost drifted along,
Knowing this was wrong.
Her husband still looked down,
With a smile, not a frown:
For her wife had died for the chance to see him,
Even though she never got another chance to see him.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
Reading books, drinking tea,
Trapped in it's own hypothesis
Yes, that's me.
Manacled hearts, wrangled thoughts.
Trapped in the past.
When I shouldn't be.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 4:52 AM UTC