She Is In Love With My Poems

I love my poem, it gives my girlfriend goose-pimples and leaves poker-dots on her laughter I love my poem, it gives my inspiration sexy pimples and leaves me with a gooseneck, because my girlfriend never gets tired of embarrassing me with kisses, after she’s done going through my poems, this pierces through my soft-pitched hugs When she’s excellently sad I don’t worry to flash various colours of flowers to make her happy because my poem, has the astute to make her happy again like the smiling raindrops When I adopt her sadness, I always get soaked in tattered emotions But she decoratively knows how to bow away my intense sadness She simply recites the funniest verse of my poem this brings me back to a butterfly state She’s in love with my poem really, she melts in my poem She keeps saying that my poem is the ruler of her happiness and that I should never dare to stop writhing Even If I have no more ink to feed my paper or inspiration, to water my thoughts, I should just keep writing in colourful tones. For my poem keeps her love for me, shining and raising in colourful tones