Condensation forms on my glass of iced coffee I love watching the way you apply sunscreen Light reflects off of pinwheels in front yards
By Ricky Blue2 years ago in Poets
I put a letter in your mailbox On a Thursday afternoon. Friday comes, I check my mailbox, To find nothing from you. Saturday, you’ve gone away.
You said no Under the mistletoe, And I felt myself break Like ornaments hitting the floor. I feel so Numb as I watch you go,
Connect the dots, what do you see? A portrait of hope or one of despair? Whatever you choose, I’m riding shotgun Wherever we go, I don’t really care.
Is it all a game? Is it just for fun? Am I still the same? Or am I long gone? What’s going on? So many questions Lingering in the
Confessions, Late night confessions, Under cover of the night, I can openly state my intentions, My obsessions, There’s no preventing