PHIRE
10900
|
|||||||||||||||||||||
CATEGORY
first love
You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.
COMMENTS
No comments. Be the first to enter a comment.
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY PHIRE
Beautiful BrownBlue sky's covered the rose that grew brown Cloudy past with no present it was found |
CloudsSitting here watching you pass, I reflex on the past...why could my first not be my last... |
AgainLet it be written that every morning before school would start Was the beginning of a search for a high school sweetheart With wondering eyes many were looked over though few overlooked Opened doors pulled out chairs even made offers to carry books Rejection after rejection began to cut wounds, deep into the marrow Garnered no looks for love every eye was focused on the sparrow Free to have freedom, why does the caged bird still sing Discouraged and lonely afraid of what tomorrow will bring Close the door, push in the chair, no more offers on the books Wondering eyes now examine, better position of view to overlook As the search came to an end, bittersweet was left the heart It was wrote that after every morning, over again was the start. |
TRAUMAIf today he did not notice, I'm sure tomorrow he will not care...I know he saw me look his way, a long glance short of a stare... Fascinating to see how I remember, he reminds me of someone I knew... The tweaks of my thoughts, cause me not to believe it's really you... A quick glimpse into the past, thanks for the present, glad that you stopped by... Looking back on yesterday, it's startling to your face, at night when I close my eyes... Grasping on to a dream, but with you in hand I can not close... These are sentiments from a mind that is traumatized, With my heart I enclose Tell me that I'm normal, and that you notice, and that you care... Staring now, he sees me, I'm in a trance, I can only hear, Hellloooo Are You There.... |
Our StoryDo you remember the first time you saw my face, From that moment you had me though I hid the fact, Phone lines tied for hours when can we meet again, Year one turns to year two could this really be true, |