I see him again,
Staring at his hands,
The hands that are folded neatly on his legs.
He's just staring... Like always.
I want to know more about the mysterious, green eyed boy,
His green eyes sparkle,
His blonde hair in a perfect position,
And his lips are perfectly soft to kiss.
But with his looks,
Shouldnt he be with his friends,
Or be surrounded by girls?
But instead he stares,
Stares at his hands.
I look at his hands to see what this about,
And all I focus on is the scars on his arms.
YOU ARE READING
Original Poems
PoetryHi, my name is Gabriela and I think I have a talent in writing poems, songs, and stories. So this is meant for showing my original poems. :) thanks for reading!!!!!!
