george albot


Knickers


What happens to all of the words that we don’t speak
I hope that they are saved somewhere so I can use them later
To try to explain again and again how I feel about you
But how can I miss, missing you, before you have gone anywhere
It’s so hopeless sometimes
But as long as you know
There isn’t a journey that you could go on
That you could leave me or my heart behind
I am going to be with you until the end
And I don’t mean your holiday
It’s not going to change the way I feel about you
My heart is full of the feeling and the memories
That we have made together

But I still want what I ask for’ while you’re away
Because even although that I love you
I am what you said, shower time
XXX

Submitted: Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Edited: Thursday, July 18, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Knickers by george albot )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The Path, Deepak Hariharan
  2. A Hymn to God, Dr John Celes
  3. The Facebook Poem, Alan W. Jankowski
  4. The Jerk At Work, Alan W. Jankowski
  5. When Friends Betray Friends, Alan W. Jankowski
  6. My Love Did Sometimes Wander, Alan W. Jankowski
  7. No Help At All, Alan W. Jankowski
  8. The Bird, the Cat, the Monster and I…., Poetheart (back)
  9. Neon Sign, Alan W. Jankowski
  10. Party Favors, Alan W. Jankowski

Poem of the Day

poet Sir Walter Scott

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]