Untitled
I wish I could write infinitely
About all the beauties and senses
And be able to truly describe how I feel
But words fail me now
Unlike my feelings;
Always vibrant and flexible;
Always eloquent;
I'm inspired by you.
And every time I try to say it
I get quiet and shy
Because these words,
So difficultly put together
Ultimately don't express
that by your side
I feel complete.
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| RED | 0 | 02/24/2010 |
| Inevitable | 1 | 08/05/2009 |
| Untitled | 0 | 07/07/2009 |
| Nos que nos amavamos tanto | 0 | 07/07/2009 |
| Unravel | 2 | 07/07/2009 |
| Lovers | 1 | 07/07/2009 |
| A life less ordinary | 0 | 07/07/2009 |
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