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By Stephen Date: 2002 Jun 12 Comment on this Work [[2002.06.12.03.51.25899]] |
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I wanted to write a poem on romance visiting you whenever you walk around in public places but always being behind you in the form of faint footsteps. It would have been grand. It would have had the spring leaves swooshing in the air, and devious squirrels dropping acorns on sidewalks fooling you. You'd see what I meant if I wrote it. You'll see what it was like knowing that maybe your true love is only a couple steps behind you, and following your every move. But they'll never catch up. They'll never catch you up. If I wrote it, you'll feel the pain as you read line after line. You'd know all those regrets; like staying in class longer while leaving work earlier. Missing your soul mate over and over from ignorance. You'd feel the need. The urge for someone's comforting arms around you when you talk in whispers about your insignificant day, and how it was so worthless without them. You would have loved my poem. It would have had everything. From rhymes to hidden signs to broken lines and painting, _LOTS_ of /word\ p~a~i~n~t~i~n~g. It would have been just the right poem for you. The poem that made your day, or even changed your life...But alas, I'm afraid I'll never write this poem. In these late hours I couldn't bring myself to the task. I must hold back, knowing, fearing that maybe you, my love, wouldn't understand my poem. You may find it hard to grasp my true portrayed intention. I just hope, that eventually you may find somewhere soft in your heart and forgive my dry pen. Because if I could just write this damn poem for you, it'd be greater than gold. From roses are lipstick reds to violets are waltz'n like Blue Danube. |