( worst poem ever, there you go :3 )
butterflies
way up high
aqua skies
it must be nice
if i could fly
i'd fly to you
and when i'd arrive
i wouldn't believe my eyes
such a catastrophic blue sight
i'd be left tounge-tied
fluttered inside, with butterflies
poised, flapping gracefully shy
could it really be you this time?
YOU ARE READING
𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡 ( 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 '𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕')
Poetry❝ 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟭𝟯𝘁𝗵 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗳; 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗯𝗲❞ Hey there, it's me...
