Poem
I wrote this poem to read to Angel at Easter however she hasn't got in contact so I couldn't. I will put it here with foolish hope that she might read it. Sorry if it's crap, I'm not so good at rhyming stuff!
Fools Gold
Your love for me to foolish face
Did not seem rare or grand
But gold and jewels that do replace
Rot in my lone, bare hand.
Gold; smooth and round, they might compare
To your breast or tummy skin
But gold is cold and hard and I declare
Will not your warmth akin.
Diamonds; shall ladies prize
Like tears the Angel's wept
From endless ebon eyes
That lose me in their depth.
So I pray, one day, the wounds will heal
And we will that which we once craved;
Love for a foolish one you did feel
And that foolish soul you saved.
Fools Gold
Your love for me to foolish face
Did not seem rare or grand
But gold and jewels that do replace
Rot in my lone, bare hand.
Gold; smooth and round, they might compare
To your breast or tummy skin
But gold is cold and hard and I declare
Will not your warmth akin.
Diamonds; shall ladies prize
Like tears the Angel's wept
From endless ebon eyes
That lose me in their depth.
So I pray, one day, the wounds will heal
And we will that which we once craved;
Love for a foolish one you did feel
And that foolish soul you saved.