E. GREEN's Page

The heart will beat
so fast. Feet
could not dance
fast enough, not given a chance
to compete.
O' how he really is a treat!

One smile
from him makes it worth while,
the constant pain
that has become a stain
on the heart.

If the truth will start,
then shown
is he is not hers. Blown
over hard toward this admittance.

O' how she wants the existance-
AS HIS.

Maybe...
it will never happen.
But nothing will truly
slacken,
the crush. Until
realisation becomes the
nasty spill.

That he belongs to another,
not even the victim
any bother.
But would he if the plot thickens
and to play that seductive
plan in mind.

O' how one can be quite destructive,
when given a chance.
Only time will be
the one to enhance!

A deep breath
taken back,
emotions a theft
as thoughts elsewhere lack.

Mind set upon
one.
A listne ti that certain song,
results in a constant reminder-
of the tonne.

Weighs as heavy as a load of bricks,
when will it go,
the question sticks.
The only answer with a no,
to want to reveal it.

If that occurs,
then reality will only hit.
A thought dislikened
and an image
in the mirror
is the only visage.

Him.

Dear My Julia,

Fifteen years and still the peculiar
feeling, still here.
I look at you and fear,
because you are his not mine.

O' how you looked so damn fine
yesterday!
I wanted to hold you and stay
with you for eternity,
of course, this could never be.

We are with each other's friend,
yet how did we follow the trend?
That day I looked up at your thong,
I knew then we could become a song!

But why did we choose to wait?
It was left so long, you took his bait
and not mine.
O' how he is a swine… Continue

Dearest Owen,

Witout any incline
of the outcome,
I write this with some
intention.

For many years our attention
has been for one another,
even with the bother
of a husband ana a wife.

My heart is in pain, the knife
digs deeper everytime
I see you. A line
was drawn when we both married.

And when she carried
your child and, I, mine.
But as I write to you, how fine
it feels when we are together.

You will always endeavour
to be my soulmate.
O' how I hate
to hold his hand.

I look at you, as you… Continue