www.whyville.net Jul 20, 2008 Weekly Issue



Ducky464
Whyville Poet

Fleeting Blood Rush

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CREATIVE WRITING
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PANDEMIC
You walk by, as if you're gliding on the tips of breaking clouds
my stomach welcomes butterflies, and makes me want to scream aloud
I meet your warm melting gaze that penetrates my sanity
you have me stumbling about, and I worry about my vanity
suddenly I feel my cheeks get all tingly and hot
only to get shot down by that girl, who's everything that I'm not . . .

but I notice you seem to take little regard of her existence
carelessly give her the cold shoulder, and keep a friendly distance
for a moment there, I felt like I was walking on broken glass
I see you inching closer to me, and the butterflies come streaming back

a fleeting blood rush goes shooting through my veins
if you speak the word "Hello," What am I going to say?
my legs start shaking, my first instinct is to turn and look away
but you tap me on the shoulder, and simply say "Hey."

the knot in my throat tightens, as time takes its tour
I smile and manage a "Hello," feeling slightly insecure
you begin to ask me questions, that velvet voice, such a lure
capturing my undivided attention, everything else is a blur

you smile, showing off those perfect pearly white teeth
to my shock you ask, "Would you like to go out with me?"

 

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