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Now you think it does not matter
How you look and that they
Would have wanted you anyway.
You're hands down beautiful,
But maybe it is not enough.
Wait and see the years pass
Until you will be neither fair nor fine
And the only one who'll still be
Desperate enough to love you
Will be me.
©2008-2009 ~In-September
:iconin-september:

Author's Comments

1. / 2. June 2008

Comments


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:iconhuliojules:
Ya know, there is one "-ation" to look for anew that lessens the "desper-" one, and that is: "fascin-" ;) :)

--
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors! Oscar Wilde.
:iconin-september:
:-D Danach such ich noch ^^

--
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.

I was not sorrowful but only tired
Of everything that ever I desired.
:iconblinkinturtle:
Desperate enough to love you
Will be me.

That is an absolute fantastic ending to that poem. I really do like this, more than I can say.

--
Yet I am not sorry that I loved you—ah! what else had I a boy to do,—
For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.
:iconin-september:
Thanks so much for the comment and the fav :) I'm really glad you like it :)

--
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.

I was not sorrowful but only tired
Of everything that ever I desired.
:iconblinkinturtle:
You write so well, It's suprising you don't get more credit.

--
Yet I am not sorry that I loved you—ah! what else had I a boy to do,—
For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.

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June 22, 2008
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