Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The Way I See You

I love the way that
Your nose wrinkles up
And your eyes look like
They're almost shut
Every time you smile
It's a tragedy really
Since you have the most
Beautiful golden eyes
I've ever seen, especially
When they get that
Twinkle, that sparkle
And you smile, knowing
That you've made me do
Something I would never do
In front of you for
I tend to live mostly
Inside my own head
But you claim your victory,
Leaving me on my knees
Begging for more, honey,
More of you in my life

But they don't understand,
This world thinks you're
Just a silly girl
For they don't know you
Like I do, and
They don't see you
The way I do
So climb on up, my love
And live inside me
Wear the crown that
Most queens would envy
As you sit on the throne
Of this lovesick heart
And wait it out till
We're ready to show them all
What it is we're worth
For, honey, we're worth it all

15 comments:

Anonymous said...

Your poetry is very special. I understand your love for writing, and I appreciate it. I write poetry also, but nothing of mine expresses as much emotion as these poems. Thank you so very much for sharing.

Arpit Mehta said...

Aww thanks - thank you for reading :)

Anonymous said...

nice!

Anthony said...

This poem is absolutely beautiful. I love it.

Arpit Mehta said...

Thanks!

Anonymous said...

Reading this poem brought tears to my eyes. Felt like it was written from the heart.

Oscar said...

hope she knows
bout the wrinkles on her nose
and the tragedy of her eyes
just make sure she knows
ok?

green said...

i am a fan.

Telkanis said...

Beautiful poem. =]

Annabelle said...

Oh I love this. I love this I love this poem

Em said...

I think that this is a beautiful poem! I can only hope that someone feels like this about me someday. I stumbled upon it and it really brightened my day.

Arpit Mehta said...

Thanks everyone!

Anonymous said...

what kind of eyes are golden? don't tell me you're into white girls mr. mehta.

Arpit Mehta said...

Would it matter?

Gabriel Gadfly said...

I love the rhythm of this poem. Rolls off the tongue well.