Lydia Shivley Poems

During my life I've lost many things...

I've lost my teddy bear
...

Looking down to see a glossy wooden floor
just polished and shows your reflection
as you start to run
...

All alone, no one by my side
No, I wont cry.
That's the way I like it
It is because of me that no one is here
...

The words we speak and write, they all have a color-
Not the color of the pen, though the color of the pen is just as mitey.
Mother says my words are a dull Gray, and light-
...

They say all addictions are bad,
and at once I have agreed.
Until I developed one, and I thought nothing could go wrong.
My addiction was a walking beauty, a goddess straight from heaven.
...

These words I say, you've herd them before
These words I say, don't seem to matter any more
They lifted you up when you was down
They was your light in your darkest hours
...

Your hair reminds me of the soft Autumn night, a clear never ending night sky,
Your eyes, deep brown, wide to show off and flaunt their warm brown color. Eyes that show no fear, that some times hide you over boiled anger, eyes that hypnotize, and get me lost; just smiling at them.

Your lips, soft, full, and just the right amount of perfect. When they form a smile, the gray clouds part and the sun rays warm and light up my always rainy days. I long and dream to one day kiss them. Have them pressed up against mine, in a roughly gentle kiss.
...

Here you go. I made it just for you! I made a ruff draft, second copy, it's spell checked and with correct grammar too. Signed, dated, and perfectly sealed in the envelope. It's a love letter. Well actually it's a love poem. I came up with it one day during class, when I couldn't keep my mind on nothing else but you. I worked hard on it. Harder than I would I work on my favorite subject in school. I hope you like it.

...No wait. On second thought, I'm sorry for giving it to you. Let me have it back, and I'll get rid of it. I don't care how, I'll feed it to my gerbil and let her tare it to shreds to use as her bedding. Or through it in the fire in the fire place to roast one last marshmallow with the small fire it fed. But I can't let you have it.
...