www.whyville.net Oct 31, 2002 Weekly Issue


his song

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CREATIVE WRITING
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PANDEMIC


his song

bflover
Whyville Poet
strumming my pain with his fingers,
breathing for me with his voice,
thinking for me with his sweet song,
guiding me without a choice.

marveling me with his eyes,
dazzling me with his mind,
the strength to grab my consceince,
I couldn't ever find.

all I could do was stand there,
and listen to his song,
but when he looked to the girl,
my happiness was gone.

I found the control I once had,
and started to break down and cry,
I felt all flushed with fever,
and he felt me die inside.

I went home and lay in my bed,
but never went to sleep,
I lay there thinking of his song,
too sad to even weep.

whether or not I want it,
I have to rest assured
his song I still do have in my heart,
but love will find me like before.



 

 

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