with her
As I take the first step off the end
I feel the breeze up against my face
My thoughts flare and I pretend
That I can press the backspace
And just go back to where I was content
That I can sit in front of the fireplace
With her
And feel her warm embrace
But that will never happen in the end
Because I have been replaced..
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| this too shall pass | 0 | 05/22/2012 |
| in the end | 0 | 04/09/2012 |
| ~Unrecognizab le~ |
0 | 04/09/2012 |
| controlled? | 0 | 02/22/2012 |
| listen | 2 | 01/23/2012 |
| baking | 0 | 01/22/2012 |
| with her | 0 | 01/15/2012 |
| Down | 2 | 01/07/2012 |
| Lost | 1 | 01/07/2012 |
| Love Disguised | 2 | 01/07/2012 |
| She Is Gold | 1 | 01/07/2012 |
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