Author's Comment: hee heee, this is going to be really melodramatic, but I am
*intentionally* making it suck (although i bet that even if i actually
tried to write a *good* poem, it still would stuck
okay, back to the poem i felt so inspired to write (p.s. i am writing
this as i go along, i didnt just write it hours ago and come to type it
up now, i feel like writing a spur of the moment one)
Just call me Angel, of the morning, baby.
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, honey.
Just call me Angel, of the morning, baby.
hee heee okay that is actually a real song and i probably got the lyrics wrong. just kidding here is my poem as i make it up. (remember, its supposed to suck)
Afloat on a red river,
I hunch, the pain vivid and livid,
it is no longer a river,
a bay, a lake, an ocean
I flow.
Sweet it is, and sweet you are <--- i think that is actually a Dave
Mathtews band lyric from "crash">
but two different kinds of sweet.
Sweet like a fresh peach in the bust of a woman
and Sweet like summer sunset.
But your sweet, the sweet of the sunset,
alas, i can never see (oh woe is me!)
for the sun is not my friend,
no one is.
So like the namesake angels,
I can only watch. So like
Joe Dawson, I can never interfere.
Because I am not you,
no matter how much my weenie is in you.
Another Author's Comment:I thought it was a great poem!