Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Another old poem (Illusion)

How long we talked is still a mystery
All ears as you always seemed to be
Your body, turned a hundred and eighty degrees
So you can face aback, to me

Endless chatter amidst the class
About things that piqued our interest
I don't clearly recall the days we didn't blabber
Only those moments you seemed fixated on me

|2015|
(Lol what the heck is this)

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