It was the way you spoke about her,
Every word,
Every sentence,
In which you bouquet about her beauty.
Making me more insecure of myself,
Making me realise,
That I barely had a chance,
All I wanted was to dance,
In the rain,
With you.
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Author:
trashsam (
Offline) - Published: October 27th, 2021 04:33
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this poem for my best friend, whome with I fell in love. But he loved someone else.
- Category: Love
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments2
The last dance that wasn't to be.
You feel the pain running through this write.
Quite lovely. I like the way you have presented this tale very much.
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