It feels silent, despite the fact that there are noises in the background; the breaking news on a television that no one watches, non stop splashing sound from the fish pond, and once in a while, the dispenser would go "blurp blurp" as the air trapped inside makes its way to the surface. Yet still, it feels silent.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Monday, August 4, 2014
The Beauty of Acceptance
Him.
He is such a nerd, with big rounded glasses,
no life but the poems he writes and he, himself publishes,
until he met this girl, with thick eyelashes,
and sweet pink lips he would kill for some kisses.
Her.
She is no beauty, even more a princess,
not with her brackets, big hairs, and freckles,
but she's born with these dreams people call "madness",
those only this boy thinks, "you can chase it".
Them.
Years passed by and both have learned,
that he is such an ass, and she's so stubborn,
that he drinks a lot, and it makes her concerned,
and that she can't cook well it makes his stomach ruined.
But poems about her are continuously written,
and they've reached Eiffel together- haters are beaten,
in the aisle of Paris, they exchange the words as the candles burn,
"I vow to you my love, and to always cherish the beauty of acceptance".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)