I was logging in
Facebook I had a...
A get-together on Sunday past
Dinner eaten way too fast...
I see all of me in you
Blue eyes, fair hair, full lips...
A violin string calls
From a chord pressed...
She's not pretty like most girls
Of course, physically she'd have you entranced...
known quantity bereft of quality;
a name of little beyond its letters...
Son I'm writing this poem
When you at my waist...
Your words sting my heart
and imprint into my mind...
She walks alone
A shadow in the street...
Oh the winds they rage and rancour
and the sky is cold and gray...
I wonder if I've
accidentally...