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Oops.
I dropped my pencil and as I stare at it,
Debating, pick it up or not,
You bend down, grasp it, turn around,
And say, "Is this yours?"
As my heart skips ten- if not twenty- beats,
I reach for the pathetic piece of wood-
As if a rose from your heart to mine-
Take it, and open my lead lips to whisper
My simple gratitude into your beautiful ears,
To attempt to gain some composure,
In your gorgeous brown eyes
But you turn your back around too quick
And not a word has escaped my mouth
In the best five seconds of my life.
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Dashboard
Confessional
By Matt Hatfield |
