Biography of Zooey Lichty
I always thought I was writer.I didn't start writting poetry until about 2 to 3 years ago. I'll probably be a writer some day, just not right now. I'm a poet and I didn't even know it.
I'm just a girl who expresses her feelings through writting, but the thing is... I don't really know how to.
Zooey Lichty Poems
A Man's Desire
I do not need to be sexy I don’t need the latest trends For one Man already loves me for me He does not care what I look like
pink cherry blossoms smell sweet and beautiful small and delicate they are oh so calming and soft
A High School Crush
I look at you with lust and love and I don’t know what to think it feels so wrong… yet so right
Erasers so pink and perfect removing all the mistakes and imperfections one has made banishing anything less than perfect with firm yet soft strokes leaving no trace of the previous misdoings
My Soul- My Life- My All
my Love for you God is Amazing Yet yours for me is Divine my Love for you Demands my Soul, my Life, my All Yet there are days when I only Give you
I'M So Sorry
I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'm sorry I made you sad
snow white specks of mystery a language within a language a word within a word
Heart Enamored Affectionate Romantic
A Letter In A Poem
Dear Nate, I write this even before we exchange addresses and places of residency even before we really truly know one another.
A Simple Love Poem
Can I make you love me? Can I force you to love me? Why can’t you see in me what I see in you?
Imaginary Man (Open Window)
I open my window so that the imaginary man can look at me So he can stare and gaze at me My mother warns me “Close your blinds! Someone might be watching” I secretly think -Let them watch
I was so Happy earlier today- where did that Happiness go? I want it back!
I saw a Young child today so Innocent and sweet- and wearing blue I asked him why
I, Yes, I
My wrist look small, thin, and weak I fear I have a disease, but I have no sorrow for it I feel weak, I am shaky, I AM angered I feel joy
In The Army Now
A cold brown tent
This is where I sleep
A river of soldiers’ blood
This is what I see
Piles and piles of dead bodies
This is what I smell