Biting his lips, he combats himself "Should I or shouldn't I?" runs again and again His hand hovers, his eyes stare Still, he can't bring himself to words, to action Her attention would be his bliss or his hell Plagued with every "what if" he can dream of
She keeps turning to see no one She keeps feeling nothing But she knows there is someone there Anxiety is her constant companion Anticipation is her constant muse She can feel him there but still nothing
Wars are in both of them Stirring emotions, turbulent thoughts Both of their stomachs turn Damned desire, innocent stalking Him, what will happen? Her, when will it happen?
Quote: from dont notice me at 10:40 am on Oct. 13, 2008 yeeeeaaaaaa i'm biased because i hate poetry so it's lame.Then why would you bother with this topic?
yeeeeaaaaaa i'm biased because i hate poetry so it's lame.
poooinnntttssssssssss