Poems from AngieNiks
You told me once that before I was yours,
All you could think about was holding me.
So when you finally could,
I felt that desire you...
When I die, I want your hands on my eyes,
for when I am forced to exit this life and it’s temporary bliss,
I want my last sight to be of...
I began to write
When I was twelve;
And at first, I couldn’t
Do it very well.
Yes, I could rhyme,
But I used many clichés,
But I started...
He has brown eyes.
It is the most common color among my kind.
It is difficult to compare that color to something picturesque.
And that is...
What good is sleeping?
No longer are dreams ideal,
I want life, with you.