Trip Number Three

by Unknown   Jul 7, 2012


As his calloused fingers pluck his vintage Gibson guitar,
his passion poured with each single verse,
mesmerized by his sultry, deep voice,
I caught myself focusing on his lips.

I feel like a groupie pleading for an encore,
however I need to keep my distance,
he is my heroine,
I constantly jones for more.

As quickly as he ends,
he begins with a familiar tune,
how could he spot me in such a crowded room?
Our song is blasting through the speakers,
the vibrations shattering every inch of hope I had picked up from the last trip.

Oh, my heart is so vulnerable.

I lust after
every syllable,
every note,
every chord.

They are the pathway that guides me back into his arms,
his heart,
his life.

Can I handle just one more trip?

Copyright 2012: Hannah K.

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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by Midnight Sky

    Nice poem but it need a pop to it or more flavor something

  • 13 years ago

    by A Poets Handwriting aka ALISHA

    Love is a drug. This you have perfectly ascertained.

    Again, you're imagery is flawless. It's as if the reader is there, is you; thinking these thoughts, seeing him play... you describe the scene so well.

    I loved how in the last few stanzas you chose to limit your syllables and it has such impact! Well done!

    5/5

  • 13 years ago

    by Omar

    Wow, i think you actually have a talent.
    I loved it :)

  • 13 years ago

    by Lioness

    Oh I love this one, you are definitely an awesome poet with great skills!!!

    I love guitars, I've always wanted to learn that as well as drums. I agree that love is a drug and it can completely take us over emotionally and physically.

    Awesome write

    x

  • 13 years ago

    by Thomas

    Loving someone is such a drug

    every smile to throw at you is like a needle in your arm that gives you that warm feeling deep inside of you

    5/5

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