I once sat in puddles on swings,
uncaring of dirty marks left: blue
trousers, black; pink skirts, purple;
white dresses -- no, I didn't wear
white.
I wanted to.
I clambered
over red-brick walls, rot-green
fences and cold-cut metal poles.
It was then I saw her: brunette locks
tamed by brush and comb and ribbon,
plaited to her waist and back.
"Pretty little loopy!"
I yelled to mother, leant against the gate, lips
parted in discontent as I
fell from my perch, overcome by admiration:
whispy strands swayed, free of red
ribbons and glitter hair clasps, softly striking
her white dress.














Comments
This is one amazing pome.
Honestly, I'm not sure I can tell you how cool it is to get a fave/comment/reaction like that from you. Mr. Big Scary Poet guy. XD
--
AKA ~007-crazynloveless
take off your -3 armour of "frigid bitch" and ill give you my +4 "phallace of mount doom" baby
--
AKA ~007-crazynloveless
take off your -3 armour of "frigid bitch" and ill give you my +4 "phallace of mount doom" baby
--
Venomous voice tempts me, drains me, bleeds me, leaves me cracked and empty
drags me down like some sweet gravity.
--
AKA ~007-crazynloveless
take off your -3 armour of "frigid bitch" and ill give you my +4 "phallace of mount doom" baby
--
the prettiest of things can be so subtle and small, its easy to pass them by, or let them go
some memories are too precious to remember, others to horrific to forget, no matter how had we try
--
AKA ~007-crazynloveless
take off your -3 armour of "frigid bitch" and ill give you my +4 "phallace of mount doom" baby
That IS kick-ass! XD
--
'Everything is us, and we are everything, but what good is this, is everything is nothing?'
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