Title: She Lifts Me
by Stephen from Gloucestershire | in writing, poetry, love
My only light,
On dark home return,
Her sweet autumn hair,
Orange, red, auburn,
She helps me.
A glimpse of light,
I strain hard to see,
Two buses apart,
Two worlds; her and me,
She pains me.
I think it's love - it's plain to see.
I think it's love - does she know me?
I want her close,
And yet I am scared,
This longing I have,
Cannot be compared,
She hurts me.
That glimpse received,
Is all I will need,
She flowers my seed,
Yeah, she's fine indeed,
She lifts me.
A little poem I made I while back, based on experience. I recently had the urge to show it. It may seem a bit song-like, that's because it was intended to be read alongside a guitar.
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