Hopeless. Tragic? No, I knew what to expect.
All the same foolish games. A broken record scratched with a stain of loneliness.
All of those happy tales of a princess in a tower and a handsome, loyal prince...
Where did my childhood go? Why must I waste my tears on such an unattainable person? Where are my teenage years headed?
Lie, after lie, after lie, spit into my face. You can be famous. You have so many great friends. Every boy cannot help themselves around you. Popularity and success are surely in your future!
What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the walls of his mind. Just to know what beautiful thoughts eclipse his brain.
What I wouldn't give to dwell inside his heart...to feel every amazing feeling that overcomes him. And to simply waste time on the sweet rhythm of his heartbeat...There is no bliss that I desire more than this.
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Comments about this poem (Face It by Carson Rabalais )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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