Love Is..., by Morning After
|
Love to me is when he is around. Love is when I hear the
sound of his voice. When he makes the choice, to be with
me. Love is when I see him at his best and worst, and he
still always look his best to me. Love is showing him
care, no matter when, or where. Love to me is when I can
stare in his eyes and still be surprised at how
beautifully brown they are. Love to me is always letting
him drive the car. Love is taking the ups and downs even
though you don't always like to ride the merry-go-round.
Love is putting in a little work, even when I am being a
bitch. Love to me is when he sees my smile, and notice the
difference between my smile and smirk. Love is knowing he
knows me better then I know myself. Love is never waiting,
and putting us on hold, high on the shelf. Love is
sharing, and never keeping things to myself. Love is the
ways I miss him kiss. Love is the way he makes me feel
when we kiss, it is bliss. God! I miss his kiss.
|
Posted: 2005-12-20 02:30:45 UTC |
This poem has no votes yet. | To vote, you must be logged in.
|
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
2006-01-04 22:26:45 | *Diamond Rose Petals* |
ppl here dont really appreciate love poems. they rather have heartbreak or depression, but good poem anyway |