Her brown shiny eyes are hidden behind long eyelashes,
Hidden behind pretty glasses.
She smiles, and laughs, and the entire world stops to look at her.
When she talks, you have no choice but to listen,
Her voice is as entertaining as your favorite song.
She says nice things about me,
Nice things about the book I wrote,
And I become immensely happy,
To be seen like that by someone as talented,
As smart,
As pretty,
As her.
YOU ARE READING
My loved ones; a journey.
Poesia“Perhaps one did not want to be loved, as much as to be understood” George Orwell.
