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Poetry
Thursday, 27 October 2005
Bookshelf

I tryed to read your book,
But I could not understand.
Yet I could not put it down,
It would not leave my hand.

But it spent many months alone,
On the bookshelves in my heart.
Ive turned each page a million times,
But they would not fall apart.

Now I want to write a new page,
But I feel like I'm watching from backstage.
Girl I want youtowrite your own ending,
But my heart, will always be mending.

I could write about the mark,
Under her right shoulder.
But not a lyric I could write,
Could explain how much I want to hold her.

I'll just have to wait again,
To know a feeling like this.
For you to want to cuddle,
For you to want to kiss.





Posted by poetry/ketchup57v at 10:52 PM EDT
Updated: Thursday, 27 October 2005 10:54 PM EDT
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