"jig" poems
Deceive me
Lie to me
**** with my head
On the edge of the cliff
Then you pull me to bed
Your love is a drug
*** with you gets me high
I’m a full blown ******
Makes no sense; don’t know why
You're an ever present torment
The fission laser splitting my mind
A jig-saw puzzle that was completed
Slowly each piece from each piece you unbind
Seductively you tear me down
Like the clothing you disrobe
A deer staring into headlights
I am frozen on the road
The weight of the world bearing down on me
As those focused beams get closer
Gladly I welcome them
Even though I’m not supposed to
Every rational thought I have
tells me how wrong you are for me
But they are drowned and muffled out
No more thoughts; keep your pennies
No sensible way to explain
Why I ******* love you so much
You’re a psychotic crazy *****
that I don’t want anyone else to touch
A blowtorch ignites a flame
A fire fierce and burning bright
Even though I know it will burn me
With all my gathered strength and might
All it takes from you is that look
You cast that Vampire’s gaze and grin
Instantaneously my defenses lowered
and you know you’ve ****** me in
Immerse myself into the flame
Intense pain; you melt my skin
Until pain I feel no more
I’m enveloped in your sin
And like a ****** choosing dope
Everyday, your sin I’ll take
I will gladly sell my soul
The most egregious of mistakes
A preying succubus appears
like a dreamy demoness
A world of dreams are turned to nightmares
Fills her needs for human flesh
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC
Sometimes the rain falls
as if its penning poetry
to the rhythm of its own music;
a sonic tune of liquid tapestry.
Cleft from a sky immersed
in the scene of a tragedy.
It's tears,
the pitter-patter;
a solemn dance
for all humanity.
An ancient jig this fluid frolic
never tiring of its endless cycle
vesting and revisiting this terra firma
like a lover emasculating the earth
of its desert state,
or adding to its oceans
in a bid to be free.
But you’re here again, I’ve noticed
for even through windows
your music plays a clamorous
and rather brazen beat.
Take my hand, why don’t you?
Come.
Dance with me.
© Qwey.ku
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
Jellicle Cats come out tonight,
Jellicle Cats come one come all:
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright—
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.
Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats are rather small;
Jellicle Cats are merry and bright,
And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul.
Jellicle Cats have cheerful faces,
Jellicle Cats have bright black eyes;
They like to practise their airs and graces
And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise.
Jellicle Cats develop slowly,
Jellicle Cats are not too big;
Jellicle Cats are roly-poly,
They know how to dance a gavotte and a jig.
Until the Jellicle Moon appears
They make their toilette and take their repose:
Jellicles wash behind their ears,
Jellicles dry between their toes.
Jellicle Cats are white and black,
Jellicle Cats are of moderate size;
Jellicles jump like a jumping-jack,
Jellicle Cats have moonlit eyes.
They’re quiet enough in the morning hours,
They’re quiet enough in the afternoon,
Reserving their terpsichorean powers
To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon.
Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats (as I said) are small;
If it happens to be a stormy night
They will practise a caper or two in the hall.
If it happens the sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.
11.3k
Ye got to Fancy this Hearty Stout, Aye,
Soot-soaked with tub-flavoured Laurels of Gold
Now bloke-haste Juggers tick your nerves on-high
And make ye shout the Trumpet-Football-Fold
Yet so, our Celtic Spirit comes to call
For you to Jig their Post-Victorious Dance
Or, if upset, prefer to keep knees on hold
And hope such Font will get you that Romance
Still, never deny those After-Glugs won't count
In palling the Bet for Arsenal's Wear
Sudden Death Match will cause the Team to Mount
And show those Charbarrels a Reason to Tear.
Raise a Swig, to where there Brave Captains be
I take me Share, and drink the Sailor in me.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
She took my niece,
Made her, her-daughter.
Two of them sippin' coffee
In yoga clothes,
Watching sun-rising over the bay @
7:00am, on a Sabbath-Saturday.
She took my niece,
Made her, her-daughter.
Life, a puzzle, a jig saw dance,
Just found, right now, the right spot,
As I espied them, this poem,
Product of a momentary glance.
Another poem, another piece,
When,
She took my niece,
Made her into Her-Daughter.
7:02am
August 24th 2013
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 7:04 AM UTC
A sky so blue
Beatific smile of Sun
Swathes the vastness
Welcoming with open arms
My gleeful heart
Reaches out to the sky
Oh so like the feeling
Joyous jig, to celebrate
Unleashed dreams
I release them to the wind
They fly high
Among the blue
Taste of freedom
Feels so great
My dreams have taken flight
My feet on the ground
And my dreams soaring high
A feeling of euphoria
As I kiss the wind
I feel lighter
My eyes are brighter
Hope resides in my heart
With the sky above me
A shade of blue
Oh so true
A new day and hope
I embrace the landscape
Proud I am
To feel this beauty
I am a part of it
Welcomed by bright sunrays
Feel free to express
When the sky breaks into laughter
Playfully indulge in a light banter
You are here
Welcomed by a bright new day
Regaled by the birds’ songs
Intoxicating aroma of Nature
Along with a sky so blue
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
Freezing dusk is closing
Like a slow trap of steel
On trees and roads and hills and all
That can no longer feel.
But the carp is in its depth
Like a planet in its heaven.
And the badger in its bedding
Like a loaf in the oven.
And the butterfly in its mummy
Like a viol in its case.
And the owl in its feathers
Like a doll in its lace.
Freezing dusk has tightened
Like a nut ******* tight
On the starry aeroplane
Of the soaring night.
But the trout is in its hole
Like a chuckle in a sleeper.
The hare strays down the highway
Like a root going deeper.
The snail is dry in the outhouse
Like a seed in a sunflower.
The owl is pale on the gatepost
Like a clock on its tower.
Moonlight freezes the shaggy world
Like a mammoth of ice -
The past and the future
Are the jaws of a steel vice.
But the cod is in the tide-rip
Like a key in a purse.
The deer are on the bare-blown hill
Like smiles on a nurse.
The flies are behind the plaster
Like the lost score of a jig.
Sparrows are in the ivy-clump
Like money in a pig.
Such a frost
The flimsy moon
Has lost her wits.
A star falls.
The sweating farmers
Turn in their sleep
Like oxen on spits.
6.8k
there was a little elf as funny as can be
he lived in the woods inside a big oak tree
he wore a funny hat and a his ears were big
he would play a fiddle and do a little jig
one day in the woods he saw a little mole
he was sat there crying poor little soul
the elf he went to see what had made him cry
then he asked the mole what was the reason why
the poor mole was lost he had lost his way
while walking through the woods he had gone astray
dont worry said the elf i will guide you back
then off they walked together down the woody track
they strolled along together for a little while
elf he found his hole and mole began to smile
mole he said goodbye and elf went on his way
the mole he climbed inside his hole and slept the day away
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 9:03 AM UTC
I’ve fallen head over heels.
Crazed into an unknown and different love.
And this time I know.
I know it’s different.
So different; because my heart beats differently now.
Not out of sync. Not out of place. Not beating in pain.
It beats like it was meant too; in rhythm to something that matters.
Into something that might change you.
Into becoming perfect in someone’s eyes.
The beauty of something so real, makes everything seem like diamonds.
All unique; always and endlessly lasting forever.
Communicating sweet gestures and making love seem like a person.
You patiently wait and watch it grow.
Into a gorgeous emotion.
That will never leave your sight.
Because now.
It’s a part of you; a part of your life.
I’ve landed in the arms of someone who makes my bones weak.
But manages to keep me together with simple sentences.
You are stunningly beautiful.
You are everything I could ever want in a person.
You give me butterflies when I see you.
It makes you fall to pieces. Crumbling like your favourite dessert, but still tasting ever-so sweet.
You melt.
But you are still intact; more intact you ever thought you could be.
And you smile, making you feel whole again.
Completing the jig-saw puzzle of your life.
We all dream.
Of a love which will carry us away.
That will make us feel like a fantasy in our own special movie.
And we’ll live happily ever after, regardless of where we are.
Never doubting anything that may come your way.
A love so powerful, that the settings don’t matter.
Only the two of you count.
Time seems so unimportant when you’re together, because you know what makes you grin.
Living your dream, with that one person.
Who makes the day all worth it.
So I’ve fallen head over heels.
Into something I never prepared for.
Into something most people can only dream of.
And in that moment, when you feel the love in your soul.
You are at peace.
Cuddling up to the one who made it all happen.
Thinking... “Thank you, for making my dreams become real”
And they’ll smile, and say “I would never take it back. Your love gets me through the day.”
The psychic bond, of the minds.
And you’ll melt together, like ice-cream on a chocolate cake.
So sweet, so right together, and the moment will last forever.
Like lovers.
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 4:07 AM UTC
V. Ethereal
Maybe being drunk
is the closest I will
ever get to zero gravity--
to walking on the moon.
My fingers curled
around the neck of a liquor bottle,
I wander to my bedroom window,
as a tipsy weightlessness settles
amongst my limbs
(and my thoughts).
Swaying slightly,
I part the curtains and,
in my intoxicated stupor,
search for Polaris in the night sky,
point to it,
press a clumsy hand to the glass,
convince myself that
I have captured the star,
and all the omniscient power
it possesses,
beneath my finger tips.
Star light,
{lips pant--
inebriated,
heavy}
star bright,
{my breath appears a catalyst
as the window pane glazes over
in an impenetrable paroxysm of fog}
first star I see tonight,
{I take a swig,
raise the bottle--
a toast
to the cosmos}
I wish I may,
{Lashes meet in
silent matrimony}
I wish I might,
{Behind closed, desperate eyes,
ribbons of colour dance
towards me in a disoriented jig}
have this wish I wish tonight--
to be
obliterated by the very galaxy
that birthed
these grieving bones
and this tumultuous heart.
Because only then--
as the Gods paint the Night
with the innards of my soul,
acrylic purples
churning against the blackness--
will I become what I
have always dreamed
of becoming:
Lovely.
Ethereal.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:57 AM UTC
To you I may just be a grain of sand, caught between your toes
But you will not have my experience, so you cannot know
How it feels to float on a shark fin or rest on a mermaid's breast
Or do a jig with a conga eel, now that really was the best
So before you cast me aside to clean your human foot
Take a super duper microscope and take a closer look
At me and my sparkly sandy compatriots as we glisten in the light
A dazzling array of shell fragments and glass nuggets so bright!
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Songs abound in Time as running due paid
We of Merry Emotion dance a Jig
And see you Happy toss-coins on the Said,
Mark farthings for pounds won on Cocktail's Lip
And whilst we Celebrate, what is that Chest,
Eating Sweets beneath the Lottery's Lot?
That's a nice hobby; Dried lollie's possessed
And Playful Numbers tucked beneath forgot
Taking Remembrance when he was Alive
With Chances simply Fun and Truly told
That the Greatest Theme; Not for Profit's Bide
But Storied Values hungry tongues retold.
What such Lesson this, a Blackboard can learn
Gems studded aside; That same Chest you earn.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
there was little octopus he just loved to sing
but the thing he loved most of all was the highland fling
he would play his bagpipes and do his little dance
with his funny legs he just love to prance
he just loved the bagpipes he just played away
doing his little jig that made him bright and gay
he was very happy in scottish kilt
with his little hat he wore at a tilt
he just loved the joy that it used bring
he was very happy to do the highland fling
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 9:32 AM UTC
there was little octopus he just loved to sing
but the thing he loved most of all was the highland fling
he would play his bagpipes and do his little dance
with his funny legs he just love to prance
he just loved the bagpipes he just played away
doing his little jig that made him bright and gay
he was very happy in scottish kilt
with his little hat he wore at a tilt
he just loved the joy that it used bring
he was very happy to do the highland fling.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:59 AM UTC
His ***********
Purloined my desire
Stole, requested expectations
My boyhood kidnapped and
Fed secrets for other
Purposes
Blue eyes, pieces of
An unsolved jig-saw
Slotted into my need
Such theft, such theft
Such theft, such theft
So generously given.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 3:12 PM UTC
1
Grey sky greyer sea
a litter of rocks balance
coat bright hat blue mittens striped
as on these November steps
you collect the gifts of the ebb tide
2
Glint green this living tapestry echoes
Jilly’s field with tractor not Devon
but salt-flats rocky revetments moorland rising
a map crossed by a chiromatic line
our destiny marked out on this concrete wall?
3
Beached clinkered double-ender
a bay-courser sjekte strand-crunched
fit once for Viking raiders two abreast
now daubed with tin ends of patriotic paint
a sea-steed hobbled hard on the shore
4
Bow faced a sea helmet thrice rope strapped
slow moulded over the boat builder’s ribbanded jig
a spanglehelm of wood
curved sheer straked plank bilged a tuck stern
raising its proud head seaward
5
Viewed from the air a map rolls out
north to the tilted curve of the horizon’s rim
cloud scattered mountained red
betwixt seas sun chalked wine-stained a volcanic isthmus
provokes desert the western waste land of a brooding city
6
Oh face of ropes knot eyed!
you blue cheeked wide smiler
wild wild your head of hair
beachcombed and splayed
wrapped on the sternest post
7
She sewed sugar kelp on the sea shore
a sporophyte with sheltered frond
strap-like stem stiff and smooth
of the species saccharina a spring-tide
stalk set among substrates shells and stones
8
I the camera turned and caressed
by her slight fingers (the pinky raised)
my viewfinder close to her blue grey eye / I
focus on this kelp-needled novelty feel her breath
wait for the thumb press the electronic click
9
Here is the beach walked in darkness
the fishermen shadows against the moonstruck ebb
fingers laced the sea’s breath in our ears
wave upon wave un-folding on the sand and later
we unfold then draw back in love’s relentlessness
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 4:09 AM UTC
Meet me here
at a quarter passed four
in the morning.
I'll be the boy
in the duck sauce t-shirt
you can wear your favorite
Lollipop skirt.
I'll have my my secret
Neutron bomb.
Your hips will be destroyed.
I'll pull my bright red wagon
and a handful of other toys.
I'll dance the flute
and play a jig
You can drink as many
Long island ice teas as you want
I'll be your rodeo clown
Your laughing hyena
Your pinstriped suit
Your Knight that you dream of.
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 9:01 PM UTC
The man to my right was more than eight feet away. I was going to have to move closer to him to catch my limit of four trout. I halved the distance between the two of us and noted the sideways glance he shot me. I apologized immediately and asked if I was crowding him.
“No, you fine,” he replied within a thick Serbian accent.
“You’re with them?” I asked, pointing to the crowd of people on the bridge some 30 feet upstream from us. I had heard the crowd of eastern Europeans talking earlier, and their accents were unmistakable to me. He nodded and we continued fishing.
With my new angle I was better able to pick my fish in the water, so that’s what I did. I spied one and tossed my jig toward him. It took five casts but eventually, he took the bait. As I netted it in the swift, ice-cold spring water the man beside me congratulated me on the catch. I thanked him and added it to my stringer. This made three, and I only needed one more.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Ivan”.
“Have you been in the states long?” I asked, after the pause following his short reply seemed to invite more questions.
“Since ‘96, my family live here. It is good.”
“You like living here?” I wondered aloud.
“Yes, the fishing is good. It is like back home in Serbia, or in Germany. We have this fishing there.”
“You mean trout?”
“Yes, trout...and some other fish like these, in water like this, but I can’t go home now.” He looked away momentarily. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I pulled my line in, wanting to ask him more and not wanting to be distracted.
“Were you in the war?”
“Yes, I was in the Serbian police force.” My heart pounded. “When I was in the Serbian police force, we did what you see on the news. We went into villages and we killed them. We killed them all.”
I cast my line back into the water, spying another trout. Ivan shrugged and cast his own line. I couldn’t tell what he was using but it looked like cheese of some kind. “I was drafted in Serb police when I was 15. I had no choice. If I refuse, they **** me. I did what I had to do.” I nodded, and ****** my line, missing a fish. “Before the war, I fished. After the war, there were not so many people, so fishing was very good.”
The air around me was alive. The trees were greener, the water was colder and clearer, the sun was brighter, and the sky was bluer.
“I’ve been fishing for a long time as well,” I responded. My father used to bring me here as a child. He nodded and continued.
“After the war, all the fish come back, no one fished during the war, so there were many of them. You just had to be careful of the mines.” He grunted and gazed skyward.
“The mines?”
“Yes, during the war they mined the water.”
I watched trout number four take my jig and I carefully reeled him in. Ivan congratulated me a second time, and I thanked him in return.
“You’re a good fisherman,” he said turning back to his own pursuit of the four-trout limit, as I left the water to clean my catch.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
Universal love
Corresponding hearts
Beating tandem
In tune
In tune
Ohh if I was sure
Id let it be known
Cause we've been here
Taken me there
High upon high
Laying beneath soil
Touching skies
Flowers
In bloom
In bloom
Tell me of something
Has poison ever sex'd lips
Making it unreasonable
To mistake this
Tune in bloom
Mary
Mary
Sweet David and Joseph
Blasted hits
Beyond stars
You've dragged me closer
Still so far
In tune
In bloom
Vile bitter taste
****** from a tip
Drank slowly
Drunken sips
I've dreamed
Excuse nightmares
Visions of you
Mary
Mary
Sweet you and I
Revelry
One hell of a guy
The face that kills
Murderer of the night
In tune
In bloom
Given up fight
Ohh Mary
Mary
Martha too
It wasn't I
But demons
That chased you
Sweet David
Dance your jig
With a fiddle mans tune
In bloom
In bloom
Only by the day
Has the end come clear
Mary
Holds Martha
Out of fear
David clutch his hand
Beg for mercy
On our behalf
Once again
Universal love
Corresponding hearts
Adam loved Eve
As the time starts
Ohh what a lovely garden
Hidden between thighs
Cause we've been there
High upon high
Laying beneath you
Scratching skies
Sweet David and Joseph
Has poison ever sex'd your lips
****** from a tip
Mary
Mary visions of you
Revelry
Murderer of the night
The face that kills
Mary
Mary
Martha too
Dance your jig
Forget the demons
That chase you
The runner
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 2:06 AM UTC
Amid mushrooms the leprechaun creeps
At the end of rainbows he sleeps
He would hit you with a rock
If you try to steal his crock
A master of devilish trickery
He will play games with ye
Doth thou keep away from me gold
He will say so brash and bold
Catch him and hear him rant
Three wishes he will grant
But those wishes are like the mist
With each one comes a twist
Laughs at you, he is all dressed in green
Never generous, just twice as mean
For his hidden gold he will dig
Trick you and dance an Irish jig
Dec 19, 2009
Dec 19, 2009 at 12:06 PM UTC
Strolling down the dusty road
I reached the path of an abode.
The Black Shamrock an Irish pub
I stopped inside for a pint mug.
One mug topped off with ale
That next to Guiness Stout
Looked pale, A Pilsner in the glass.
And down the bar a drunken fool
Sat staring with blurred eyes and drool.
A sassy colleen tended the bar.
And if your hands were free,
They wouldn't get far, for
If they reach to the wrong place.
You'ld a bar wenches Slap.
Across your face, and a spot of red
For all to see, that you got the Hand.
Of Molly McGee, a fiddler Bowed.
An Irish Jig, and a penny whistle.
Carried the tune to the drunken crowd
Within the room, a game of darts is made
While cribbage by old farts is played.
And the pints are emptied by the hour.
As the clock rings out in the churches tower
As drunks are Roused, and doors are closed
Old friends will stumble down the road.
All in an Irish night
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 5:17 AM UTC
The Dream-house isn't the same and Barbie doesn't wanna play anymore.
Barbie wears a painted smile but her heart is so sore.
Oh, Ken's just on vacation.
But Barbie is home contemplatin'.
Sweet Barbie, how could Ken do this to you? After all you two have been through.
Barbie, you must make Ken pay.
Ken must see the wrong of his ways.
Just wait til Ken gets home.
He'll regret all those times he didn't pick up the phone.
It's a new day in the Dream-house and Barbie can see Ken from the window.
There's a hatred in Barbie's bright eyes, but poor Ken doesn't know.
Barbie greets Ken with a hug and a kiss.
Ken said "glad to be back", but Barbie knew it wasn't her that he missed.
"Of course...so how was your trip?'', Barbie asked.
Barbie waited for his lie while she poured him a glass.
Ken explained, "Oh, it was great".
Barbie already knew what was up and Ken should be afraid.
Barbie handed Ken his glass before calling out his major slip.
Barbie stared contently while waiting for his first sip.
"You know Ken, you should always close your email", Barbie sighed.
Ken almost choked and his eyes got wide.
The jig was up and Ken couldn't hide.
Barbie began to laugh and even cry.
Ken's vision started to fade and h hit the floor. Barbie walked over dying Ken towards the door. Oh, don't believe what they say about life in plastic.
Barbie could tell you, it's not always fantastic.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
First day of class, her nerves are crunching inside while she tries to maintain a cool surface. The nervous foot tapping and magnetically crossed legs I see giver her away. On top she is collected: calm, serene shirt color, long hair tied back in a ponytail and a smile as the teacher talks and jokes. Her pen is tapping out a nervous jig, but why?
Is she eager to impress or is it nerves too anxious to start her first day of class actually ‘specified for her future.’ Is this class the first stepping stone on her “road to success?” Nervous laughter at all of Dr. Sandlin’s corny jokes, sometimes her laugh rings out a trill and true chime and sometimes it is stale.
She has big plans, big dreams, a big hope. Creative Writing 3400 is her first “official” step, from there a journalism job in London perhaps? Her nervous feet are thirsting to walk the streets of history where Shakespeare, Milton, or maybe for her Dostoyevsky have trodden.
Cold determination, a warm smile, she will succeed.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 12:38 PM UTC
***** the demons from my past
**** the demons that lie ahead
Too many heathens within my grasp
Stuck with these demons inside my head
Fire and brimstone is all I see
Demons dance on flaming seas
I hate this being who confides in me
Evil chants and hellish rants
Consumes my will I've lost all chance,
it shreds my hope and now I can't
believe that I've been made to dance
In the darkness I'll waltz through
Maybe I'll jig
Out of this evil tune
-V.v.V. Ds
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
If I even began to try and tell you how much I love you, this wouldn't ever end.
I love you more now than when I was your best friend.
Despite what people may think about the love that we both share,
Its something that I'm proud of and unafraid to declare.
Right now, its 3:40 and I'm unable to go back to sleep,
I'm thinking about you and the promise I just can't keep.
I'm sorry I can't seem to stay up to read to you as I said,
I'm sorry that you have to face these thoughts within my head.
But baby, if there's anything I know for sure is true,
Its that despite my actions, I'm hopelessly in love with you.
You've been here for me since day one and you've never let me down,
You talk and make me smile when all I know is how to frown.
And if you couldn't see it, or if you doubt its truth,
If, like other people, you start to doubt such love for youths,
I really just need to tell you, as I lay awake in bed,
All the time, its mostly you that resides within my head.
I know that this is cheesy, writing a silly little jig,
Its as though we're both little, passing notes just like we're kids.
But it seems that, for some reason, the words, they flow tonight.
Its the first time in a long time I've been able to just write.
I feel that now is perfect, to explain to you these things,
That make me feel worse than the worst of all my dreams.
You see, if there's anything I'm good at, its writing things like this,
The words, they flow much easier. It kind of brings me bliss.
Baby, let me tell you of the things that make me cry,
Like when I get alone, sometimes I wish that id just die.
Or sometimes, out of nowhere, I just stare and fight back tears,
Because I think of silly things that happened through the years.
Sometimes, on occasion, I even think of you,
I know that its upsetting that sometimes I doubt what's true.
And even still, there's more to tell.
Some things that make me yell.
Like people like my mom and dad,
Who make just living hell.
But baby, if there's anything I've learned now not to doubt,
Its that this love is genuine; you, I can't live without.
And baby, if that's not genuine or if you still can't see,
Think of how you see me, and multiply by three.
That's how I feel about you, although its much much more.
For you, Id be your everything. Id be who you adore.
What makes this thing that we've both special and unique,
Is that we can love each other without kisses on the cheek.
At our age, it seems silly, stupid or naive,
That's what people tell me when I say when I will leave.
But they can't seem to see you in the way that I just do,
They can't seem to tell that I'm desperate to be with you.
Baby, I love you, of this I'm extremely sure.
Baby, you're my everything and still you so much more.
So now I've told you everything, of why my mood just drops,
I've told you of what I think of when I'm crushed by rocks.
I've tried to tell you how I feel, the words aren't flowing freely,
It seems that for now its time for my talent to start to leave me.
So baby, keep your head up now and smile all today,
Don't forget about the words that I always can say.
Baby, I love you, don't forget, now, I'm heading back to sleep.
Thanks for being the only one who doesn't scream "black sheep."
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC