frankdatizank

So as I sit here waiting for a girl to call me, I wonder why do I? I mean I do like her, but then there are others who I may like more... does this make me a player? I assume it does, that constant wondering that there may be someone better. Well I guess for once I may be patient and let it play out... I really do not want to be a jerk but I gues past hurts have led me this direction. I wish i could be a different peron sometimes, but tha well to my knowledge is not possible...

So to prove I am sensitibe here are some poems I have wrote,,, Aleda, my Southern Gem, thanks for the inspiration to post some poetry!

Love is like the burnt amber leaves of Autumn
They exist with no certain purpose
Left only to be carried away by the wind.

Love is like the warm melting rays of Summer
They keep you warm during the day
Then they leave you to the cold stillness of
Night.

Then return again the next day
as though Nothing had ever happened.

Love is like March, "it comes in like a lion
then it leaves like a lamb."
It comes with the bitter chill of Winter
and then it leaves with the growth of Spring?

and another...

A Lonely Night in St. Ives, England

(Early that Evening)

Engaged in conversation,
Left in isolation.
Smiling freely,
Anxiety deepens.
Content girl,
Lovesick boy.

(Later that Evening)

Crying alone,
Laughing with friends.
Loving stare,
Intermittent glance.
Foolish boy,
Girl gone.

Seconds tick away, Hours go by.

Speechless boy/lost girl.

To my lover...

Thick oppression, lacking joy
(The room changed when she walked in)
Heavy with life and charm.
Dreadful, without hope
(The day changed when she smiled)
Full of expectancy and joy.

Depressed not wanting a tomorrow
The thoughts changd when she laughed)
Fullness, longing for day break.

Calm a stillness settled
(It changed as she cried)
Uneasiness, desperate for a solution.

Lonely both longing for love
My life changed when she walked in...

P.S. I am waiting patiently