It'll be a year until I see you again
By then, I'm sure
There will be someone else
And so
I need you to know
That though it was short,
Just three weeks of fifty-two,
You,
While you lasted,
Were the best thing
I have ever felt.
You,
With your red hair in ringlets
And your chocolate brown eyes.
You,
With your never-ending freckles
And the dimples in your cheeks.
Your beauty
Made it a
Crime
Not to stare.
YOU ARE READING
Organized Chaos - These are My Thoughts
PoetryNo, These are not poems. So flimsy a thing as can be called a few words on a page. These are thoughts. Paper thoughts, broken and scattered and gone like the wind. Iron anvil thoughts, never leaving though it is all I can ever ask of them. Invisible...
