Perhaps I must write about you;
I could write about you;
I should write about you.
For I will soon forget all the times
when you made my heart warm,
and when I made you smile.
Yet, every time I sit down to write about you,
a new crack is created over my fragile heart.
So, I stop.
I stop reminiscing about
the way you felt against my arm;
the way your hazel eyes looked at me;
the way your cheeks turned pink;
the way you were impatient to the entire world,
but the most tolerant with me;
and the way you were kind to me.
I make myself stop
only to realize that I'd already been thinking about you.
YOU ARE READING
Poems about Love
PoetryContains only poems, from the book- I thought you were mine (in the process of being written by me), and just poems about love. It contains letters, his povs, and just feelings of love. The poems are not in any particular order. I hope you like th...
