As the sun dies down,
drowns and dissolves.
In progress to night,
I lean against the car door,
as I write this empty passion of a
poem.
My eyes follow the clouds,
or maybe the clouds are following me?
Gazing at the clouds as it blends,
further into the nothingness.
My eyes wander the clouds,
"I want to touch them."
I thought.
The suns beam of heat,
love and passion,
shines it's light onto
the clouds.
"It's even more beautiful."
I thought.
And then I look at
you.
As the silence dies down,
our words drown and dissolves.
In progress to the end of
our night.
You lean against the door,
and I am writing this lovesick of a
poem.
My eyes follow you,
Your hair are like the clouds you look up at.
Gazing at the clouds as it blends,
further into the nothingness.
Your eyes wander the clouds,
"I want to touch them."
You spoke, breaking the silence.
Your smile shows of heat,
love and passion,
and your hair shines
the sun hitting it's light onto
the clouds that is you.!
"You're even more beautiful."
I said.
You pause and the silence arose again.
- your sky
YOU ARE READING
I wish that I didn't write these poems.
PoesieVarious collective of unwanted poems I have written; for people who are fond of the subjects of heartache and who are disorientated through the navigation of this world. Let me share this with you. My emotions are inconsistent and messy, please in...
