I stare at it.
His lines, curves, and shapes are just right.
Mixed colors, different emotions.
Its scribbles making the mind confused.
Staring at it, trying to figure out his beauty.
Turning my head, seeing his different angles.
Trying to understand the art.
Maybe its his imperfections that make him so beautiful.
- A Shitty Poet
- Author: ShittyPoet ( Offline)
- Published: April 18th, 2017 23:30
- Category: Love
- Views: 31
- Users favorite of this poem: brianna jean zeiger
Comments1
I absolutely adore this poem!
Thank you so much!
You're welcome!
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