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"endearingly" poems
I saw you looking in the mirror again today You can’t seem to go past one Without taking a second glance Your own image seems to impress you As if you were really in love With the one staring back at you You never seem to notice me Watching you as you pass the mirror And you seem almost a narcissist to me Who only sees how you prance and primp Staring long and hard at your appearance I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Another look so long or endearingly Into that looking glass where we all see Ourselves staring back at us Could it only be me or are you actually In love with what you see Looking back from your reflection And it is a little troubling to me When I see you speak to yourself Long moans of yearning Puppy, I know you long to believe That puppy in the mirror Is your brother or sister!
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
Narcissist
She comes to me every night... When all is asleep with stars lit yonder. Comes to me with subtle might Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover Await such time she'd choose to show Await the chance to finally take. Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake. Awake or asleep, she would come without fail. Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure. Always a ***** in my impervious mail. Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour. Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb. Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid... Just wait and will yourself numb She'd come regardless of prayers that's said. She was here with me last night In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless... And my heart wrenched tight. Gripping and feeding me senseless... Soon as she came, she left but not before Siphoning the good and replacing with dread... Stole was what she did; left me wanting more... Once deed is done, into the dark she fled. I know her all too well, Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite Her intentions to incite, not quell Send me spiralling through emotional blight. Day will recede, making room for dark She'll come; swift and without sound. She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark I'll wait for her, ready and unbound. Looking forward to her return This silent foe whom I find familiar. With every touch I cringe and burn Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour... She is synonymous with various names Each would bear the likeness of semblance Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims Endearingly I call her..., Despondence...
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
Familiar F(r)iend
She comes to me every night... When all is asleep with stars lit yonder. Comes to me with subtle might Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover Await such time she'd choose to show Await the chance to finally take. Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake. Awake or asleep, she would come without fail. Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure. Always a ***** in my impervious mail. Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour. Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb. Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid... Just wait and will yourself numb She'd come regardless of prayers that's said. She was here with me last night In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless... And my heart wrenched tight. Gripping and feeding me senseless... Soon as she came, she left but not before Siphoning the good and replacing with dread... Stole was what she did; left me wanting more... Once deed is done, into the dark she fled. I know her all too well, Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite Her intentions to incite, not quell Send me spiralling through emotional blight. Day will recede, making room for dark She'll come; swift and without sound. She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark I'll wait for her, ready and unbound. Looking forward to her return This silent foe whom I find familiar. With every touch I cringe and burn Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour... She is synonymous with various names Each would bear the likeness of semblance Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims Endearingly I call her..., Despondence...
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41
I'm half asian so everyone thinks I speak 'asian' Which just goes to show their ignorance, thinking that's a language Another strange causation because of my 'asianness' is that I: Can always win arguements with Wyatt by stating this fact Was declared a ninja even before my skills were proven I surprise people with my appearance and when I reveal my ethnicity as they believe initially that I'm mexican, italian, or spanish Was assumed to have gone to the same church as all the others Am considered strange, exotic, weird, genius, awesome, and stupid Am endearingly called a 'short asian woman/lady/girl' by friends Oh and I love love love love chopsticks, rice, and spicy foods. Pass the srirachi and pepper please
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Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
being half asian in a primarily white high school
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur               Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous         Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur                         Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious Amorously arduous ardent raconteur Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous             Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous Sorcerous sabbatical apothegms chauffeur Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous Futurity fatidics fornication kithe                         Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts Empirical emulation scenarios blithe Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts Agile articulation acuities lithe                           Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe Numinous syntactical paradigm *****                   Emanate imminent perdition tithe Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts                                                                                                    Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous                                                   Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid                         Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid    endearingly engendering amore
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Phalaxy
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur               Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous         Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur                         Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious Amorously arduous ardent raconteur Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous             Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous Sorcerous sabbatical apothegms chauffeur Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous Futurity fatidics fornication kithe                         Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts Empirical emulation scenarios blithe Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts Agile articulation acuities lithe                           Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe Numinous syntactical paradigm *****                   Emanate imminent perdition tithe Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts                                                                                                    Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous                                                   Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid                         Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid    endearingly engendering amore
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#*My dear poetry My love for you is infallible Endearingly, you colonize my mind Undoubtedly lovable But Please oh please Leave some part to me Have to get back to the grind Please never do mind Have to keep time My dear poetry My love for you is infallible In you I find my respite Always be by my side*#
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
My Dear Poetry
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur               Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous         Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur                         Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious Amorously arduous ardent raconteur Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous             Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous Sorcerous sabbatness apothegms chauffeur Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous Futurity fatidic's fornication kithe                         Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts Empirical emulation scenarios blithe Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts Agile articulation acuities lithe                           Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe Numinous syntactical paradigm *****                   Emanate imminent perdition tithe Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts                                                           ­                                         Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous                                                   Ape­x crux axis ****** matrix torrid                         Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid    endearingly engendering amore
0
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
Phalaxy
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur               Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous         Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur                         Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious Amorously arduous ardent raconteur Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous             Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous Sorcerous sabbatness apothegms chauffeur Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous Futurity fatidic's fornication kithe                         Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts Empirical emulation scenarios blithe Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts Agile articulation acuities lithe                           Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe Numinous syntactical paradigm *****                   Emanate imminent perdition tithe Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts                                                           ­                                         Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous                                                   Ape­x crux axis ****** matrix torrid                         Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid    endearingly engendering amore
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Alabaster Archipelagos Benevolent Beauty Beaming Constructive Contradictive Creative Contemplations Dante's Darling Dances Deliberating Denominatives Effervescent Escapisms Endearingly Emerge Elusive Edens   Fantastic Flamboyant ******** Flamed Fabulous Fiery Flickerings Gorgeous Garden Gim'memores Gaudied Garnishing Gasps Heavenly Hues Humming Heart's Harmonies Immortaly Impregnated Inspired Ideals Jessamin Jargon Jacuzzi Jams Know-how Knacking Knurls Light-spirited Lovers Merge Magnificent Naked Nocturno Nights Omnipresent Ousia Over Odeons Palpitations Perfect Peaks Pi Paws Quintessential Quality Quarrels Question Quarks Quietness Rododendron's Richameters Rescued Raw Reeling Ruby Realms Sentient Syllabic Sapfo's Splendidly Spirited Semantics Turning Turner's Timeless Timeless Twinklings Unified Undulatory Unsolved Unicorns Velvety Venice Voyages Wanton Wantings Xsylophone Xsantiphas Yearnin' Yuki's Yen Zed's Zealous Zen-it-hall Zeppelins
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
A to Be is Why to Zed ~ An Alabaster's Alphabet
For it is this love, that I feel, Sleepless nights, restless days, letting play the reel Of film that shows how my life does look and feel. Oh for when I see this form Adonis may it not be similar to, But Aphrodite has something up her sleeve, a thing or two About how this network of unrequited love will just end up sad and blue. I do wish you the best of luck in everything you love, Sadly I can't wish you to love me, to the heavens above. It is now that I should try to let go of this dove. To this dove that I loved endearingly, To this dove that was close to me adoringly, To this dove that I will bid farewell agonizingly. I just keep on holding on To this love that will dawn upon Me the finality of this feeling that will be gone. But it's you why I keep on hoping That our love is just in the making. I hope I won't be forever longing.
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
Confused in Love
I can fall in love with your words, Without ever meeting the person behind them. I could be infatuated by what you have to say, Without ever hearing a moments speech from your lips, Feel touched without the need for physical embrace, Because every emotion shared is a kind of kiss. It's certainly not romantical (although it offers no barriers to such), No, this is something far more real, Transcending the animal need for the flesh to intertwine, So much more than the roundabout hellos and goodbyes, Beating even the are you OKs and I feel that way toos. It's the simple "I am here. This is me." So glorious in its simplicity that it could break a heart, Or mend it, depending on the reciever, Although I suppose the point is there is no reciever, Like the triumphant cry of the lone mountaineer, Or the screams of a mother who's lost her child, Only far more composed in their release. I sometimes feel like I'm reading words not meant for my eyes, (And, in a sense, I suppose they're not). They are far more beautiful than words that need to be read, These are words that were meant to be written. I find myself hating humanity to its very core, Although each individual has traits I love endearingly- Every last one- (even ****** created works of beauty), But you, who have encapsulated a piece of divinity, Within such common things as words - I love you more.
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Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
Thanks for Sharing
Heart beat mad into chest. Introduction to one-gloved hand, soft as silk and hectic as twenty-first century sunlight shining on 1942 stone architecture. Terrible stench upon entering, dripping from the bag tossed into the metal disposable bin. Echoes; dins. Flint carved sharp into shears plagiarism down to the wire. Preposition, search the list for antonyms and synonyms and cannibalism dream that wakes a man up at an hour, two hours too early. Eye problems from staring at the computer screen. And leaning, fast and forward into the face of a full grown, beard. A laugh, much too much like the written down pronunciation. False, endearingly false.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
Unbeknownst
Ronnie couldn’t talk And be rhymless at all. He could barely walk, I'm pretty sure he'd fall, Unless he was rhyming. He said to me, “You see The thing is with me It all has to do with timing. The cadence when I walk Become words I hear, The beat when someone talks Makes a poem in my ear, Then the rhyming begins And seems to make good sense. The words like magic appear Poetic possibilities immense.” All of the time I knew him It seemed to be the truth He rhymed almost constantly From his very verbal youth. He was like a Hallmark card Sometimes saying pithy things That fit the moment exactly And had that ***** ring. But other times his utterances Were acerbic and very witty. When it came to sarcastic tilt He was the Mayor of Snark City. Or he could rhyme endearingly And paint pictures with his words Saying some of the nicest things That were ever put into words. Yes, he was Rhyming Ronnie, A poem for any current thought. You couldn’t stump him even once. At least not that I ever caught. Ryan was amazing for sure And some found it rather vexing. But oh boy in the internet age It came in handy when texting!
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
RHYMING RONNIE
What do you call people endearingly? Sugar Honey Dumpling Lemon Meringue Pie I get hungry thinking of things to call her Love Babe Baby Darling Am I being old-fashioned? Do people still speak this way? My dark angel Mon cherie Deliciae meae Dove Doll What to say?
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
I call her baby doll in my head but it's awkward coming out of my mouth
She explained, as she passed him the coffee, “I just keep dreaming that I am a couch” His eyebrows lifted, a smirk played on his lips. Asked her if it was the couch they were sat on now, Crushed green velvet and endearingly hideous. She glowered, said She wished he’d take her seriously. “But your body writhes in curious convulsions, You fill the cottage with ear piercing screams- Can it be that bad, being a couch?” She declared that he would not understand, Could not see what was worse than his dreams of combat; gunshot night terrors she’d never hear. He insisted, “explain”. So she told of the aching void beyond her couch-body. How paralysed, she would flail vainly Cushions muffling her hungry screams of longing for oceanic adventures. He watched the sun through the sway of the trees, form a moving lattice upon her shoulders, Mused of his cravings for their living room from his bunk at sea. She watched him, watching her, and knew, He’d never understand her couch-dreams. They sat in silence, holding their coffee, And accepted their anharmonic lives.
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Jul 13, 2011
Jul 13, 2011 at 4:44 PM UTC
Couch Dreams
Life is so friggin' weird, I'll tell ya. The older you get, the weirder it gets, and it just keeps on getting weirderer. Grossly weird. Wrongly and disturbingly weird. Upsettingly weird. But then, now and again, pleasantly weird. Delightfully, excitingly weird. Weirdly endearingly weird. Then weirder still. Off-puttingly weirder. Over-sweetly weirdly weirder. Understatedly, low-key weirder to the highest degree contradictory weird. Maybe weird isn't so weird after all. When it's the only constant in life, then weirdness becomes the only reliably normal thing, oddly enough.
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Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 4:26 AM UTC
Weird World
and then again: out against the "tide!" the killings that go on and on while we weep while we "sleep it off" while we wonder why all love has died. and then again: where are we really? i mean really what are we doing as the killings go on? the "peace within" the final escape the spiritual escapade with its own endearingly repeatable stories hiding our most treasured vulnerability and then again: and we again resume our truthfulness hopefully well anyway that is the best of endings we might find within the nature of the story
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Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 2:41 PM UTC
and then again
Come, scream my name as I fly down the hall chattering like a bird, my hair soaring like wings. You can see me. I pretend not to notice the world, even though I do. It's just easier this way. I spot you on the stairs, Just a glimpse and my veins turn to ice, rooting me to the spot. You infuriate me and criticize my every word. If I were a Jane Austen character, I might find you irritating. I might find you slightly jerkish. I would certainly not find you endearingly charming. I certainly don't see you as such, where did you get such a ridiculous idea? You're just a possibility, a marked-out one at that. Not yet real enough to hazard a guess. All I know is you're different from anything I've ever encountered: A peacock in Antarctica, A shaft of sunlight in an attic, A diving stick in the shallow end, Coffee, drunk black, when the barrista serves me creamer and all I wanted was a taste of it undiluted and strong. All I know is one day, I'll look outside my bubble and up the stairs and there you will be. I won't look away. You won't either. Then my face will turn the color of tomato soup, I will find it becoming increasingly more difficult to breathe, and everyone's eyes will pierce through me like tissue paper. I will fly down the hall, chattering chattering like a bird in a cage. I will pretend not to notice the world. I will pretend not to notice you pretending not to notice me. It's just easier that way.
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Dec 22, 2009
Dec 22, 2009 at 6:13 PM UTC
Because it is.
You know those cliched romance movies, and songs that sing of love that lasts forever, and those poems that make romance so endearingly nice. I know you said you're tired of it, you've seen it too much. It makes you sick, and it makes me sick too. But if it was you who I would do all those things, and spend my life with you, then cliched or not, it will be a dream come true. Our bodies will change, and my hands won't be as smooth as you were used to, but we will share everything together, and all the best and even the worst. And we may face obstacles too tall for our love, but then my love for you grows each day I look into your eyes and see the universe unravel. So those challenges are no match for us, because we have a lifetime ahead of us, and thinking about spending it with you, is truly a dream come true.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
darling, grow old with me
In this life, we are all placed into a category from birth: Alphas or Epsilons, firsts and lasts. And the Alphas go on to live beautiful lives with wonderful significant others and successful children and fulfilled dreams and intelligent thoughts and perfect luck. And the Epsilons go on to live sub par lives with average significant others and delinquent children and nonexistent dreams and subservient thoughts and no knowledge or experience of luck. But Epsilons are so endearingly stupid that you cannot help but feel sorry for them and so we pretend to love them, we tell them that they are special, that they are beautiful. But there is nothing more dangerous than allowing an Epsilon to have a sense of self-worth, of self-respect because once they believe that they are more than the picture you have painted of them, they will refuse you and your inadequate "love". Everyone falls for the Alphas, darling. It's the natural order of things And we, the Epsilons, we go on living our insignificant, sub par, hopeless little Epsilon lives.
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May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 7:52 AM UTC
heads and tails
Tell me Pluto, how does it feel to be told you’re a planet for years and then labelled as an accessory for our solar system? But also, to be reassured, that although you’re small, you’re just as good as the rest, and endearingly enough, someone’s favourite planet? And while you sit on the outskirts, in the far, vast, pitch black edges of a far brighter galaxy than you, do you marvel at the beauty and size of every other planet judged more legitimate and important than you, and do you make friends with the microscopic stars? You are told you aren’t what you are, and you are what you aren’t, I wouldn’t blame you for drifting further, I think I would probably do the same. But know some are very passionate about your state in our galaxy, many people believe you to be of importance; whether it’s nostalgia, empathy or just fear of change. Regardless, you have a small army of people who are very vocal, about your right to be alongside with all the other planets. Just because you’re small and not as visually appealing as the rest, or because you’re pushed to the coldest, darkest regions of space, does not make you deserving of isolation. Infact, it makes you more worthy of adoration. For you Pluto, for all the hardships and all the abandonment you have felt, you have never told another planet they themselves,weren’t real, and you’ve never drawn anyone close to you, to suffer in your loneliness.
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Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 2:47 AM UTC
Pluto’s Plight
The world steered so peacefully Birds sang endearingly Recalling pretty memories Like how such lovely creatures loitered in the trees I ran, I walked, I remembered Around friends and family, my life centered Loving and caring for the important ones None could ever grow tired of such reruns Suddenly, the wind blew so weirdly The waves left you soaked in despair Strength and composure lost so quickly Damage in entirety, just beyond repair Everything, even water, tastes bitter The all-time favorites, in a second, lost their fame The love which used to scatter glitter Now make you want to erase even your name Dreamed of a remarkable ending The delightful onset was such a trip As the affair grew perfect-looking Without a warning, devastated by just one slip.
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
Slip
Burn it. The charm of Endearingly Different The Elegance of Eloquence The Stage upon which I perform for the You I do not know. The airless chambers in which we pretend to breathe Burn them. Burn your favorite things to hide behind My perfect little oddities More and more these days The nights seem quieter The days shorter And in the sterile hours of sleep I pray for ashen rain.
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Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
Burn it
this was the day one year ago that was swallowed by the distance between you and me when i slept through the sun and thought i lost the day because of a single letter not even dropped from your lips not even bitten by that one tooth that's slightly crooked but endearingly so i assured you this is the day i flew over crinoline cities and mixed drugs with my double *** and coke so my thoughts were wispy and contentedly simmered on the image of our hands laced but not sappily so this is the day that i gave up willingly in exchange for a few hours encompassed by you braver than i've been since charging forward astride my star-steed merrily into the darkness visible this is the day that i knew over constellations and snakes glittering outside of palm springs that i was meant for bigger and stranger things than being alone.
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 6:21 AM UTC
anniversary of my fugue state
This world is spinning And my head along with it So I just sit writing And wait for a hit That magical moment When I cannot stop And my fingers take charge Recording my thoughts That time when life Reveals itself And it’s all I can do To contain myself That moment of joy That feeling of grace Where all the words Fall into place When I saw you And sat here and wrote My thoughts anew So much beauty and poise I just want to speak my thoughts But I cannot make a noise So instead I sit In front of this machine Watching my fingers flit From key to key Seemingly random These thoughts enter my head I see them differently Things of beauty instead Thoughts of you And who you are Where you are from What your joys are Your amazing smile That takes a place Of great wonder On your face Your laugh so sweet I could listen for days Your quirks so endearing They make me crazed These sights I see And feelings I feel Sometimes I wonder If they could be real For never before Have I felt like that And never before Have I seen anyone like that I would walk the world over For another chance To see you smile And watch your eyes dance Beautiful And endearingly shy, As awkward as me And I don’t know why. And no matter How hard I try I can’t shake that feeling The feeling of longing And the wish for your warmth The ability to hold you In my arms To sit and talk And laugh away To be with you Each day.
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Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
You