james k.

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  • Love

    james k.

    In my house i cry
    while looking at your picture
    and i sigh
    you are handsome
    to my eyes
    in a spark i realize
    you might one day die
    so i find the truth
    about your lie
    i tell you my feelings
    that you might die
    in my arms
    i hope
    thats where you will die
    with me
    and a marrige
    and a house
    with kids
    together forever

    for james k. my 5th grade love year 2009


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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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