She Is In Love With My Poems
I love my poem,
it gives my girlfriend
goose-pimples and leaves poker-dots on her laughter
I love my poem,
it gives my inspiration sexy pimples and leaves me with a gooseneck,
because my girlfriend never gets tired of embarrassing me with kisses, after she’s done going through my poems,
this pierces through my soft-pitched hugs
When she’s excellently sad
I don’t worry to flash various colours of flowers
to make her happy
because my poem,
has the astute to make her happy again like the smiling raindrops
When I adopt her sadness,
I always get soaked in tattered emotions
But
she decoratively knows how to bow away my intense sadness
She simply recites the funniest verse of my poem
this brings me back to a butterfly state
She’s in love with my poem
really,
she melts in my poem
She keeps saying that my poem is the ruler of her happiness
and that I should never dare to stop writhing
Even If I have no more ink to feed my paper or inspiration, to water my thoughts,
I should just keep writing in colourful tones.
For my poem keeps her love for me,
shining and raising in colourful tones
|