A Poet After My Own Heart
Words formed into such beauty
Can so easily take my breath away
Can so easily sweep me off my feet
Can take this heart, break or make it, and bewitch this mind
I'm falling apart to synthetic verse across a digital screen
A poet after my own heart
What I search, what I crave, what I may have found
Knees buckling, teeth chattering
Heart melting like a waxed candel
So easily swept away with the tide of rythmic word
I pour my heart out
To this poet after my own heart
Hiding my real self from everyone else
Decrypting my form for no one else
For this poet after my own heart to understand- maybe see
Decrypting him I find myself reflected in him.
Leaving myself out in the open
For him to take or leave
Still showing this heart in my wrist to no one, only informing the poet of it
Amazed, and lulled to serenity by this poet
I'm quite infactuated and he does not even know it
I'm a simple stalker with her eye on a target
Aiming to hit, shooting to miss
Bone crushing lust for a poet after my own heart
Lust, love
Love, lust
What's the difference at this age?
Dependant on the poet, quiet around him
Lulled into silence by his presceence, put to shyness
Fighting down rolling waves of insecurity in the ocean of my gut
Watching him, stalking him playfully
Gives me the zest
Hiding and trying to avoid from being seen- to avoid his dissapointment
At such a homley form- nothing special, nothing beautiful, nothing divine
Just simply sam, standing before him, before you
Simpley Sam, the simple stalker
I've found you, you've seen me.
Which direction now?
I would sew my lips shut before I ever uttered a word
Of this poem, of my heart, of my feelings
Because I simply cannot take one more let down
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