Seventy-Three!
Well, I'm in a mood tonight.
Did something I haven't done in a while.
Is it bad that this new guy is bringing out my old art?
He liked his picture, but he's never going to see this.
It's the burn that I just can't take.
Am I making a mistake?
It feels like the brush of angel wings,
Right across my face.
How can I let these feelings go to waste?
Holding on to the words I want to say.
Rooted here, can't even run away.
Your eyes know the truth I am trying to hide,
I can't convince you I haven't lied.
Your smile breaks my heart and mends it again,
How can we remain just friends?
Your touch starts the fire that burns,
My dear, your touch feels like electricity,
Its something that can't be learned.
Sorry, I don't make true rhyming poems. It normally just comes out as I write.
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