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Poetry
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| Nostalgia? | |
| By emilio | ||||
| 06 March 2008 | ||||
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I used to love a girl deeply in high school, never spoke to her, but every time i think of her standing next to me with an honest smile, the concept of True Love is never doubted. Folding paper creatively in a blissful patio, where the sun sets wet and great songs go to a decrescendo, The Tao examines my paper….. …………a dove, sprout into a dozen walls illuminates a fire with a soft blue trail of lust and laminated smiles. The precious girl, which I’m completely obsessed about, lays in a position of comfort in the patio, and kindly erases herself from my eyes into the land of pain and bright glum. But this paper, that keeps adding a false Image to my true self, dominates the surface, Leaving nothing but wasted seconds and a dented Soul. The paper I fold is special because of my hands and my mind, but the real me is a decision between A simple door and a curtain of ecstasy.
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