1.04.2010 @ 9:29:00 AM
Brandon
"You are
not the one for me!"
says the girl,
"I belong
to a Willoughby."
And she twirls
away and sinks
in his artistry.
The girls dance
in accordance
to his melody.
He paints
their cheeks red;
eyes green with envy.
He leads them
to the meadows
And across the symmetry
of roses,
and daffodils, carnation
All a-glee.
He carries them
from their ankles
broken unpleasantly.
Ang sings
to their slumber
close and witty.
He brightens
their eyes; they laugh
in morning's sincerity.
And when he
blinks in sadness
rose they in sympathy.
Yet daybreak comes
to steal away
their gentle Willoughby.
And they--
the girls,
in despair and cloak
Weep ever so
in misery.
"You are
the one for me!"
says the girl,
"I do not belong
to a Willoughby."
15 Dec 2009
Yes, I have been trying to write again.
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