Poetry

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I knew he was poetry, By the way he smiled and the perfection in his eyes. But he's not the kind of poetry to go on paper, As nothing can describe the bliss of my butterflies, When everything is at peace. I could tell  I loved him when we l...

I knew he was poetry,

By the way he smiled and the perfection in his eyes.

But he's not the kind of poetry to go on paper,

As nothing can describe the bliss of my butterflies,

When everything is at peace.

I could tell  I loved him when we looked up into the night sky;

Our first confrontation.

 

I could tell he was poetry,

Its just a shame I'm not a poet.

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