Gotta Think of it

These talks of sweaty palms,

Shivering lips left dry,

These days of fun and love,

Whole nights where people cry,

These games played with eyes,

These intervals of truth and lies,

These fits of day-dreaming,

These wonderings as time flies,

Roses. Kisses, smiles, touches,

I don't care for them a while,

But there may be some good in it,

That makes men turn imbecile

This phenomenon called love,

I don't trust is a bit,

But still I feel like

I gotta think of it.


From My Poems: Twenty Ten