This isn't really a poem. Well, I suppose if you were to ask Allen Ginsberg, Walt Whitman, or any number of their followers, they would all say otherwise.
The textbooks define it as prose poetry. So I can write whatever I want here, and I've already spent some of that space explaining what this is.
With that out of the way, let me say what's on my mind today. (Love is).
People should know I write about what's going on in my life. Last February sure didn't seem like it was very fun, did it?
Well, my recent entries are about somebody. (They don't live in the South).
I kind of thought you'd figure it out, and maybe you have. Or maybe you haven't. Either way -
I do love this person. And it's different from before. (Oh so different).
So if I've written alot about love lately, I wonder what that could mean?
Yes - what could it mean indeed...
2 comments:
(*'-')
<3
She must be very special for you to write about her with such beautiful poetry and prose. Love is a gift that is given and received. I am happy for you.
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