His smile is clouded over, the reckless shine resigned
His bright eyes doesn't cover
What i see behind those lies
On the sixth of October,
We met for the first time
Now those meetings refrain importance
Through those that lies I despise
I should've known she walked by
Your eyes and those clear skies,
Lit up like the street lamp-lights
A sore for sore eyes, she's the apple of your eye
When I thought I was the one
You gave her your jacket in the late of night
Why would you ever get with me,
She was so much better
You would call her my her name,
And talk to me later
Let her in your home
Right after I went back, gone
Hang out all the night,
All the time,
Right under my nose
You gave her your sweater,
Said that it was just for her,
I wish I was better,
And not just some scrap leather
I wish I wasn't problematic,
I wish I was her, Heather
Took her to the theatre
Slipped, said that she was better
I wish I was her, Heather
On the sixth of October
You called me by her name
I wish I was her, Heather
I wish you weren't Ethan
I wish you were some lame
You didn't realise
You called me by her name
And called her "Mine",
Your girlfriend.
YOU ARE READING
Poems I made
PoetryThe poems I make up both in the bathroom and during school/study time (oh god the first few are the worst)[This is mostly for me to keep track of my poetry progress and how many poems I've made]
