I saw a pretty young thing
on the bus again
Her nose was tilted up
ever so slightly
and her hair was like
the hair of a girl,
I won’t lie,
that I would wish
to run through my
I thought of her again,
while standing in the shower.
The water streaming down my face,
my eyes screwed up tight,
I thought of her flaxen fringe and
Beauty is so often met
on your way to work
or on your quiet way home.
Even during walks through the park
to feed the raucous, white and brown ducks with
bread and tasteful bits of yourself.
Just like so many days of the year
and of your life.
And all you can do is smile
and watch it wander by,
fitfully wishing it might glance back.
Omg as a girl that was wonderful. I could really picture everything you were saying.
That was amazing. If some guy wrote something like that for me I might just die.
This is beautiful!
Nicely done. It ends especially well.
I love this.