Am I This
The smiles seen on the black path,
Happy and loved,
Walking down with my head in
the sky. Confused if I should be with
the standing teeth, shining so bright,
Not knowing if I am this.
If I am, I'd be in flight,
Holding a significants hand,
Cuddling, aweing, loving.
Am I this thing they call love?
For what is it? A feeling from an organ,
Or just something said?
Although, I am this daring figure,
Who comforts, who show the brightnest from my mouth,
Who take flight anytime and need.
Am I This?
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: