Love, love, love

July 11, 2008
By dacey beck, Ingleside, TX

She told me,
She never really cared about you,
And he assumed,
You never wanted to see his beautiful face again,

You write a letter to him,
As your pencil shakes,
Your hand attempts to write,
Love, love, love,
It makes her heart pound,
More than it ever did before,

The tear you bestowed him,
Fell from his cheek,
And landed on the letter he was reading,
He got up,
Ran outside,
And bellowed your name,

That moment his green eyes turned to,
Bloodshot red,
And once he opened those eyes,
She was standing right in front of him,
She held him and,
Her subdued cordiform,
Was surrogated with his amoursness

The author's comments:
My mom walked out while i was playing my own peice on the piano, and she told me i should add some words to it! so i wrote it and tried to add it to my peice but i wouldnt work so i read over and over again, and it just sounds a lot better when its being said as a love story! and to me it does. so that is my reason for writing this poem.

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