Buyunde Acura Sylivester
She left in his life great prints,
Prints of great philosophy,
Prints that never fade,
She begun this with just a smile,
Then after a certain short while,
She grew in his heart,
both tall and fat,
Then he developed a thirst,
Not realy of lust,
He just could not help it,
He couldn't eat,
He couldn't sleep,
His days became slope steep,
And nights became long,
He couldn't be strong.
She cracked the shell,
In a normally simple 'Hi! '
She was innocent,
And so too, he was,
But in her presences, frenzy arose!
He'd been admiring her silhouette,
In the evenings of late.
Time to time he sets on her a look,
His heart wrote a book,
A book with detailed photography,
Of her elegant body geography.
Daily, these left him on fire,
Really! ... Yes, fire of desire!
That burnt in real wrath,
Like the deadly inferno hearth!
Then she again made a print,
In his heart, that never fade,
When she walked up to him,
After losing her boyfriend,
And her love had hit the end,
She felt her world in a plain,
Actually she was in pain,
And no one could do her favour,
Like giving her an arm cover!
He offered to be her stand,
Wishing she could understand,
What his heart hankered for,
At that very time or before.
He mourned his days being a week,
Yet this girl was growing weak.
She left one great print,
When she moved ahead,
Accepting the world in both angles.
She chose to toss her past, so,
She left it crossed on the verso.
Again she was hooked up,
In another relationship lap.
So he missed the lack,
Since she could not get back,
And, that month of September,
Is all he never forget to remember,
That in the book of his life recto,
He loved her, De facto.
He only kept silent in the name,
But his love spirit were in shame.
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Comments about this poem (Great Prints by Buyunde Acura Sylivester )
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