Her Sonnet Poem by sheade rudman

Her Sonnet



Some days I forget that you are real...
For how could thee ever be interested
In the likes of me...
Are you not perhaps a dream...?
Conjured by my infatuated thoughts...
How could you be mortal...?
Surly you are a goddess...
Even an Angel...as thy beauty depicts...

You shed my pre conceived idea of attraction...
Painting an image within my soul...
Where you have full control...
Novacane my dear...
You have left my senses numb..
And enticed my heart to run

Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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sheade rudman

sheade rudman

port elizabeth, south africa
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