Ran Out of Room
I wrote down I love you
Didn't expect you to be the one to straighten me out
No not straight in that sense
I promise half of this wont make any sense to you,
but the ink is true
It's partly your favourite colour,
and that's blue
Oh that's blue
I wrote down
I love you
Then I ran out of room
This always happens when I'm writing about you
This is always the case when I'm writing about you
Didn't expect you to be the one to straighten me out
No not straight in that sense
I promise this wont make any sense to you,
but the ink is true
It's partly your favourite colour,
and that's blue,
Oh that's blue
I wrote down
I love you
Then I ran out of room
This always happens when I'm writing about you
This is always the case when I'm writing about you
About the Creator
Frankie Martinelli
Musician.
All work is copyrighted, and is my own.
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More stories from Frankie Martinelli and writers in Poets and other communities.
Stuck in Place
Amy whistled as she walked through her front yard, looking for any sticks she could pick up and throw into the pile she and her brother were making. They had a big windstorm recently; as such, all the trees in their yard had suffered some damage in some loss of sticks. Or perhaps losing those sticks was a good thing since their trees probably needed to be pruned anyway. Amy wasn't sure.
By Rebecca Patton6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Great poem 👏