PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Walk out the door to the warm air with some cold lemonade,

while she's sitting on the grass pretending to read Hemingway,

from my spoken words she decded to try the shade,

and that was how the love as made.

In this burn out town it's easy to get down,

smell of burnt rubber always hanging around,

tripping over empty bottles at quarter past two,

those damn bottles always keep me from reaching you.

Under the many shapes of clouds and this kind of blue,

that always seems to remind me of you,

which keeps these pretend readers from getting through

the wall to my heart that was constructed after you.

Tired of constantly trying to love myself,

and always wanting to be more like someone else,

time to sit in the warm air on my lawn chair,

and sip this cold lemonade while i read some Hemingway.