She frantically writes
With her pencil and lead,
To put down the love note
Flowing through her head
"Violets are red
Roses are yellow
You're such a swell fellow,
Violets have no vines
But roses have thorns,
Whatever is mine
Could also be yours"
Reading her heart
Then looking in her eyes,
He knew there was no choice
But to reply
"Roses are red
Violets are gray
I really don't know what to say,
My heart burns for thee
There is no end,
But I hope you know
I just want to be friends"
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Pot
PoetryThe words are a jumble in my head, And they're trying to make their escape. So I grab some paper and lead, In order to get them straight. But they're jumbled around mixing together, Like some kind of Stew. So I put them all in a pot An offered to sh...
