People ask me what love is
and I smile because I know
I see the answer in you every day
Your sadness for old shoes
left on a windowsill
waiting to be rescued from the rain
The scar above your eye you hate
when it speaks to you in the mirror
Always and relentlessly there,
sharing a place with older wounds
just below the surface
It’s not perfection I seek
It’s the little things that are real
and draw me closer to you
They leave their impressions,
adornments throughout the home
I've built for you inside my heart
-
Author:
Michael Anthony (
Offline) - Published: February 12th, 2022 12:35
- Category: Love
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
Good write M.
Thank you!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.