beauty in things exists in the wind which contemplates them...
skinny arms and plump lips
he only asked for one kiss.
spurned, for not today
only if he writes her another play.
ink stained fingers, bluey-grey
rain washing out the day
birds crying to be fed
the leaves are already dead.
melancholic tunes of past & future
whispered away on some exotic adventure.
'to hold the world in a grain of sand'
the girl was a romantic, she belonged in a band.
white knuckles, sweaty palms
only teenagers understand serene calm.
lovers bodies stuck, out'a'luck
he wants one tasty fuck.
so peach blossom springs again
and a young girl will refrain
to be in love is a disastrous game.
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