by Mercy Mon Nov 14, 2011 11:23 pmForgive me
If my thoughts seem too fast or jumbled.
But when you smile at me,
I get butterflies and become
Strangely poetic.
Although I’m not a poet,
I am just an observer,
with a pen and paper in hand
trying to capture moments,
I’ve spent nights bent over in bed,
ink spilled over the page
plagiarizing what I have heard over late afternoon coffee
and nights under the stars
because I have yet to experience the beauty of silence
I have yet to understand what epiphanies are
Trying to understand you,
what do you think your mothers face was like
when you were placed in her arms and she held you
because the picture you keep in your pocket has worn and creased.
I want to know what your first word was,
hear your thoughts about life,
tumble like water over rocks.
What makes you stay awake at night,
out of excitement,
out of fear…
I want to hear what you think about love,
why does it happen,
do you believe in fate?
As we wake on the edge of winter
long legs stretch across days into the unknown.
Does it scare you?
not knowing what to expect next
what might happen to you
tomorrow,
or even tonight,
When I drop you off at your door
and ask for a kiss?
If my thoughts seem too fast or jumbled.
But when you smile at me,
I get butterflies and become
Strangely poetic.
Although I’m not a poet,
I am just an observer,
with a pen and paper in hand
trying to capture moments,
I’ve spent nights bent over in bed,
ink spilled over the page
plagiarizing what I have heard over late afternoon coffee
and nights under the stars
because I have yet to experience the beauty of silence
I have yet to understand what epiphanies are
Trying to understand you,
what do you think your mothers face was like
when you were placed in her arms and she held you
because the picture you keep in your pocket has worn and creased.
I want to know what your first word was,
hear your thoughts about life,
tumble like water over rocks.
What makes you stay awake at night,
out of excitement,
out of fear…
I want to hear what you think about love,
why does it happen,
do you believe in fate?
As we wake on the edge of winter
long legs stretch across days into the unknown.
Does it scare you?
not knowing what to expect next
what might happen to you
tomorrow,
or even tonight,
When I drop you off at your door
and ask for a kiss?
Last edited by Mercy on Tue Nov 15, 2011 10:11 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Update)
