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Max O Jul 2011
To the one I call pure:
tormentor,
teasing me with everything you have,
making me think of only you

Your beauty,
your grace,
your charm,
all of it brings you so much brighter,
with so many others thinking the same thing,
how am I suppose to think it,
How am I suppose to compeat with so many others,
others that are smarter,
or better looking than myself,
why should I even try,
but I can't help thinking
woman of so few words to me,
I too am with so few words,
forced to just think


To the one I call pure,
my dreams label you as my tormentor,
my poison,
I see you high upon a golden throne,
looking at so many,
yet I stand here being one of many,
I can not stop thinking of what could happen,
just can't stop thinking of the one,
pure.
Adam Schwab Feb 2013
Laying on the bed, gazing through the pains of glass to the snow.
Hitting the bushes of time 6 feet down below.
Two months before the tips were covered with colorful cue, and oceany blue.
After the favorite month that reminds me of you.
Summer.

Summer is a time, where the birds sing at the light.
Crawling critters and caddydids, dance to the moon late at night.

The scorching rays that beat down on my shoulders make me drip.
After working for an old lady that always told me to "take a sip"
swiping the keys and slipping from sight to escape the fight.
I'm gong to go see Nicole tonight.

Her eyes met mine in the air that seemed like oceans from her hair
Her smiling reaching cheek to cheek.
The sun cant compeat
This girl is my light, she's radiating with heat.

I grab your side and slide in behind you.
Holding you close under the sunburst sun, you know what to do.
As the fireworks burst from
Our lips to our tongues.

Wake back up to the real month it's is.
All I can do is think o her kiss.
Ill see you again I told her.
That's why my favorite season  is summer.
Jesse May 2017
Jesse
DRAFT EDIT
Jesse 7d
Untitled
A man with a woman is like the way of a lizard upon a rock
For though his blood runs cold
He must attempt the bold
Exposed on granite block
A whip of the tail
He joins flights gale
For warmth of summers sun
And what of his fate
To be the fowls bait
Or cooked until well done
For I must warn
of a women's scorn
Hell cannot compeat
Go to the wise
Do not believe the lies
That Marrage is only sweet
If u are youth
Feed on truth
If at marriage dore thou truly knocks
Look to the lizard
On hot stone he's a wizard
Study his way upon the rocks

— The End —