I can hardly remember why
I wanted to write you a book.
The book of all my thoughts,
To forever keep you amused.
Pages after pages,
I would fill relentlessly,
The words would ease my mind,
For in you they found a reader.
The simplest and most delicate
Feelings to you they told.
It was to be the binding (bound?) string,
To which we both would hold.
One day when you weren't looking,
I kept the book away,
I'll start a whole new chapter,
When it seems like a better day.
Nicely done! Incredible how you can come up with poems day in and day out.
ReplyDeleteTalent unlimited. Nice nice!
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