The musician
The drummer in the band
Watch him as he plays
So mechanically
So amazing
His brown hair
Framing his light brown eyes
And his perfect face.
A friend of mine,
But how I wish
We could be more.
The way he speaks
So philosophically
So fluently, elegantly
His laugh so charming
A brilliant, dazzling smile.
His eyes looking into mine
The way he looks,
Tall, skinny,
An attractive face.
The way he hugs me
So tightly,
Never wanting to let me go,
Scooping me into his arms
As soon as he sees me.
The way he kisses me
So gently, so sweetly.
The way his smooth hands feels on my face
The way he talks to me
Jokes with me
The way he is
So uniquely and amazingly him.
The way he plays
The best drummer I’ve ever heard
The musician, wild child
Living life to the fullest,
Enjoying his youth
The best he can.
He is the musician,
My parents would never allow it,
They couldn’t look passed
His exterior of jeans and band T-shirts
The rocker on the outside,
To see what I see,
The friend, the philosopher
The sweet guy I know.
The musician, wild child,
The rock star, drummer
The philosopher, friend
Look pass his exterior
And see the guy I know
See the guy I see.
He is more than the musician
And the drummer,
More than what his exterior shows.
His exterior shows
A rocker, a musician,
But his interior shows me
The real him
The Steven I love.
I love him
For his exterior
And his interior beauty.
YOU ARE READING
What People Don't See
PoesiaThis collection of poems is open to ideas fro others. It is a collection of poems delving deeper than what people normally do, telling a story of the internal struggle or internal beauty of a person. Never judge a book by its cover.
