The time I told you
I was a poet
is etched into my memory;
you grabbed a pen and some paper
and poured pretty words into your
own concoction of
roses are red
violets are blue,
and I laughed because you thought
you were horrendous
but I begged to differ
because even the blind
could see you had
poetry in your soul.
YOU ARE READING
Specks Of Stardust #Wattys2015
Poetry❝ And when midnight strikes and the ink spills through the page, all that you are becomes stardust. ❞ In which a girl writes about the words unspoken, the feelings unresolved, the memories unforgotten, and the boy who caused them all.
