Young infatuation.

this is a poem i wrote for your hair...
dull in color, split ends abound,
hanging tiredly, framing your face,
a makeshift curtain that hides you from me.

this is a poem i wrote for your eyes...
deep and expressive, framed by glasses,
dark blue, windows to your soul,
orbs that my own have never formally met.

this is a poem i wrote for your lips...
pink and smooth, stuck in a frown,
looking plump, waiting to speak out,
a mouth that has never turned towards me.

this is a poem i wrote for your voice...
soft and deep, not-so-manly,
heavenly music, a soothing sound,
one that was never meant to bless my ears.

this is a poem i wrote for your skin...
milky and pale, looking quite porcelan,
fair and flawless, fitting your body perfectly,
flesh that my own has never been in contact with.

this is a poem i wrote for your heart...
something of which i know nothing at all,
what keeps you alive, holds your secrets,
the organ that doesn't know anything about me.

this is a poem i wrote for you...
because you looked like you could use one.


I cannot believe I'm really putting this out. I just thought it was kind of cute; I came across it when I was going through the big tub of my childhood papers, reports, etc. Silly, silly me.