I can still taste, and I sense and I smell. This hold, this cold, Unforgiving and relentless New recipe... you call change. And I dare to sit down and Trust you, and want you Again for the first. And once again I'm cursed With this thought in my mind That you are mine. But in this world, You're not my girl. You're not my dove. You're not my angel from above... But... you are loved.
Submitted Poems |
Featured Poems |
Classic Poems |
AskTheLoveMaster | Reflections | MostPopularPoem | PoetryTours
PoemsDirect | PoetryChat | Shopping Mall | Submit Your Poem
Advertising | Privacy Statement | Investment Opportunities