I want to get
the facts out.
The glass from under
my skin.
The rails from the
timber.
Just because I said
that your ass looks
nice in those jeans,
doesn't mean you
get to treat me like
sex crazed dog.
I gave you a compliment;
nothing more.
You're not an object.
And neither am I,
so don't talk to
me like one.
I'm not every
other guy you've
ever met.
Lift your eyes
a little higher,
that's where I am.
A very thought-provoking poem, these words you don't talk to a woman. Right? But you wrote a brilliant poem!
Can a misunderstanding be the beginning of something beautiful? Good poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice lament. Them girls like them tall dark and handsome. Now she knows.