Ice Cream

You ask me if I want Chocolate.

You ask me if I want Butterscotch.

You ask me if I want Vanilla.

I say no to them all.

Every week we go back to the same place.

Every week you order, but I don't get anything.

Then we go for a walk and enjoy each other's company.

You are always amazed that I never get anything.

You ask "why?"

I tell you "you are my ice cream."

Then you give me that smile and my heart melts.

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Jake Sleutel's picture

I like this one, very cool. Thanx for this poem...