I sit beside you
On these wooden, old seats
I look at your dress
And your legs of lace
And I wonder
How can someone not think you're beautiful?
YOU ARE READING
The Thoughts and Poems from the Mind of a 14-Year-Old Girl
PoetryI'm just a teen dealing with life One Step After Another. So, enjoy these crappy limericks, verses, and rhymes. I hope they keep you company. One page at a time.
109
I sit beside you
On these wooden, old seats
I look at your dress
And your legs of lace
And I wonder
How can someone not think you're beautiful?
