Heather Schroer

Rookie (December 16,1979 / Fort Leonard Wood, MO)

The Sight Of Your Beauty - Poem by Heather Schroer

The sight of you beauty,
through my own pitied eyes,
makes me cry.
The touch of your perfect body,
next to the worthlessness of mind,
makes me quiver.
The thought of you
pulsing through my otherwise empty mind,
makes me shatter.
And this thought,
raging out over every thing:
I am glad to call you mine.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 6, 2008

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