der_holle_rache
May 26, 2008 23:52
She loves another and knows not me
It is as if she does not, could not possibly, see me
From where she stands on a golden pedestal upon which others have placed her
Rightly so
A thing of beauty is a joy forever
But how I wish that she would look down
[[OOC: I meant to make this private and didnt put the correct heading. Sorry.]]
obsession,
empty,
bad poetry is bad,
unrequited