He Speaks (THEORETICALLY?)
I love the way he speaks,
With a voice so rich and deep.
He moves me, like the iwnd moves the trees, with a breeze,
a constant cadence of highs and low lows
My God, with every word he so-sows
I think I'm in love, he captivates my so-soul with
I's after E's except before C's, my boat is now rocked on
A plain so uneven, contrary to belief, this feeling is keeping me from overturning
capsizing my theoretical boat taking a trip to my theoretical castle, surrounded by my theoretcial
moat.
I guess some things just aren't real?
This poem is about:
Me
My community
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: