| here comes the thnikkaman! |
[15 Feb 2004|01:36pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 flirty |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
April March-Chick Habit |
] |
i just wrote the fucking poems and then it deleted them 'cause this is a peice of shit...here they are AGAIN!
Love,
ironically a four letter word
yet, such a big influence in our lives
that we made a whole holiday just
for love.
But on any day,
I'd stay in bed with you,
holding you close to me
with
your head on my chest,
moving with my breaths
I'd do anything for that moment when after months
one of us finally said,
'I love you'.
Love,
it has the power to keep
millions of people on edge,
the power to break hearts in half
and dump them in bars until the
'LAST CALL' sounds through the walls.
It has the power to stop me
from listening to you
and just kiss you because
I'm weak and I need more of you.
Love,
it has the ability to start wars
stop fights
to make the parents wait up tonight.
To give 13 year olds a reason to say
'I love you'
to give 13 year olds reason to hate their parents
To give 13 year olds heart break
after they lose someone they think they love.
But you're out there, away
from me, and I'll find you.
And I'll love you.
mrs.barnes made me write that peice of shit for v-day...next up is about babysitting...
Mothers of young children
are the most beautiful things
I could ever hope to see.
But I can see the pain
inside of their hearts
as they hold their children close before
they drive away.
And I wonder how they keep back tears
when I have trouble holding them behind my own eyes.
Mothers of young children
are the most beautiful things
I could ever hope to see.
Whispering comfortiong thoughts
to their children.
'I love you so much'
then turning to me with sad eyes
and enlarged bellies,
'Any other questions?' and smiling...
How much does it hurt you
to leave him here?
Don't lie for your ego,
I can see your torn heart reflected in your eyes.
All of you mothers of young children
are the most beautiful things
I could ever hope to see.
Because I know that while
you're out with you friends,
'escaping the life of a mother'
your mind is set
on walking up those stairs
and placing your thin hands on his head
and closing your eyes
as you listen to the remarkable softness of his breaths
and imagining his future.
Duke, Yale?
Star of the soccer team,
top of his class?
I wish you luck
in your quest to give him everything you can.
Because you've worked to hard
to sit back and watch him fail.
How dissapointing could that be?
Mothers of young children
are the most beautiful things
I could ever hope to see.
Look at all of your sacrifices,
a hero in my eyes, although,
my purpose is just to give you
that...
freedom.
More like to give me the chance to view
genuine love
at its best.
|
|