it may not be now
when you think of me.
you may not think
of the way I laugh
at the small things
or the way I play
with my earring when i'm nervous.
you don't notice these small things
about me.
but I hope
in years from now,
while you're sitting alone at a bar
waiting for someone to come along,
you'll realize
that I came along
but you missed the chance.
you struck gold and left it.
#47// valentina accardo
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a palette of poems
Poetrywriting is art and this is my palette of poems. [this is a collection of unfinished thoughts, poems, and whatever else comes to my head. some pieces may not make any sense because it's all a jumbled mess in my mind that I attempt to put into words...
