I know I don't look my best
my face hasn't known a razor for days
too many on-calls
too many rifts of the siren
too many nurses telling me
my pants aren't pressed enough
well tell me about
when you come to work in scrubs
but I don't mean to get bogged down
in the state that I seem to be
I'm throwing pebbles at your window
you seem to be quick inside dreams
shall I compare thee to a winter night
glistening in your simplicity
the way your eyes haunt and melt me
I can trace the features of your face
there's a treasure map in my mind
bundled up with my poetry
about to get lyrical
singing songs to the clouds
bouncing them off the moon
leaning back becoming one with the snow
flap my arms and give myself wings
and fly away
fly away
Originally Posted On Site: 2010-02-02 02:17:35
Last Login: 05.09.10
Visits as of 12-12-07: 463
Comments:
|
||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||
