|
|
|
|
|
|
pencil me in
@Uootem
in the book of life
love is usually in pencil must it only be that way?
the poet creates his words of love's heart and soul is his a futile expectation?
perhaps some night she will read
what he has left on the page
but will she then dream his dream?
all his hopes rests in graphite
time has erased all else
will she understand what he knows?
|
|
|
|
|
|