My days are spent writing poems for you
To the sensual airs of Chopin;
But your silence is all that you give to me,
Just silence, my dear ungrateful man
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I could only offer you love and a smile, My treasures are but these precious few wonderful words of love, an amazing write!
any poem with Drunken [or Desire] in its title can't be ALL bad, can it? ? ok, now to read the poem............... Walking Through Flames If you walk through flames to even 1 outstretched arm, better wear an asbestos suit ...to keep yourself from harm. Drunk on wine AND with love? ! Take my advice. Dump him, i say! ! He is NOT sent by 'Heaven above'! You'll end up going to meetings: AA. that little offering is JUST 4 Lora Colon, my friend. bri :)
I was just having fun when I wrote this poem. I didn't intend for it to make much sense - I just wanted it to rhyme. But I like your response, Bri. Another amusing poem. And if I ever find a love like the one described in my poem, I will dump him. Never should I have to walk through fire for love - especially with all that alcohol in me, I'd disintegrate in a flash, ha. Happy New Year, Bri.