"stlye" poems
I sit here lost in my thoughts , soaking up with the happenings
I caught A luminous face of olive white ,
the brightest eyes of ocean blue staring into mine.
Would you believe ?
Slowing down of time? I did
As she turned her head
That luminous face changed form
Barely grasping my sight,
Like the breeze before the storm,
The storm I only wish I witnessed.
Seeing her walk away in the most graceful stlye,
I wonder if her peach lips had reflected a smile !!
As she brushed her hair behind her ear,
A Sensed a gentle breeze pushing me out of senses
Was she mocking my reality ?
Was I wrong?
My spring was here a lil late
I only wish I could have taken a glimpse of her eyes
I only wish to prove myself the reality...
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
I searched high and low to find you a present
But nothing could quite represent to the fullest extent
These feelings that I have for you
That I can only try to construe;
These words:
I love you
So I made you this card
To try and be avante garde,
And though the prices were low
I just want you to know that
The sound of your voice makes me want to rejoice,
The sight of your face makes me want to embrace,
And that this card is to the girl who has such stlye,
Who always knows how to make me smile.
And this is to the girl who plays the bass guitar,
I love the way that you are.
And this is to the girl who is always so nice,
Who never fails to entice.
And this is to the girl who is so pristine,
Who is all about scene,
I hope you have a wonderful sixteen.
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 6:35 PM UTC
The door was left wide open after i had left the room,
Returning months later to find it unfamiliar,
Redecorated in the stlye of who you wish to be,
And who you mimic.
No longer feeling safe within the walls i once trusted unequivocally,
It feels so strange to be sitting here, unable to find the things i left, the things i loved.
Hidden under new wallpaper are the words we wrote together,
I only wish to read them once more,
To relive just a fleeting second of a time where no sorrow could come.
But your new decorations block my view and i may only live in memories.
Had i stayed, would we have mainted our decor, i often seem to ask. A question i'll never see answered, the one loose thread, unraveling the rest of my thoughts.
I cannot stay here, too strange and unwelcoming, alienated where i once called home.
Yet i still don't wish to leave.
So all that i will ask of you, is to close the door behind me.
For i could never lock myself out.
I will only hope, that if i should return, i should find all that cared for, pride of place, in the room that i called home.
I wish i'd never left.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC