With You
Those emerald green eyes,
your dark black hair.
Those sometimes blank expressions as you think,
your happy hugs every now and again.
Now that you are gone,
its all i can bear to say.
With you my world was complete,
now its woeful and quiet.
Those happy times,
even the sad are good memories.
With you my lips always smiled,
oh i have almost forgotten how to smile.
Now all i have left to say,
i wish i was with you.
I want to be
With you.
07-03-2009
Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| The Mountain Cries | 1 | 09/07/2009 |
| soft as a cloud | 1 | 06/16/2009 |
| With You | 1 | 06/12/2009 |
| Fear | 1 | 06/05/2009 |
| The River Sings | 0 | 06/05/2009 |
| Sitting By a Tree | 0 | 06/05/2009 |
| Band of Thunder | 1 | 06/04/2009 |
| cute as a kitten, mean as a lion. | 0 | 06/04/2009 |
| Time | 1 | 06/04/2009 |
| the cloud hanging over me | 1 | 05/21/2009 |
| Over it | 1 | 05/08/2009 |
| He Left Me Alone | 3 | 04/23/2009 |
| an ode to my friend lacey: | 2 | 04/23/2009 |
| My own Paradise (i left) | 3 | 04/16/2009 |
| my journey | 1 | 04/16/2009 |
| Lonelyness | 1 | 04/16/2009 |
| Thunder | 0 | 04/16/2009 |
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