If you found that you were me
You’d be undoubtedly confused.
You wouldn’t know how to row
Against the currents that you know.
You’d want to write a book
And pen a witty tome
Or maybe be a crook
And steal an island home.
But every time your eyes
Fall on the thing you prize
A whiff of something new
Lights another fire in you.
Does all this chaos worry you?
Or does the upheaval excite you?
Would you rather this the storm?
Or have it be the norm?
Either way is fine
‘Cause it’s not you;
It’s me.
posted by cue. @ 10:27 AM
13 Comments:
Nice one Gauthu. If you are planning to steal anything please let amma and Appa know first. :)
For some days now, my island home was missing... GIVE IT BACK TO MEEE !!
sweet poem
Nice one dude...
superb poem yaar!!!
-just a passer by
Hey!!
just browsing around ... killing time.
that lil poem...reminded me...of me. well not that i had ever forgotten!
is the state of being described in that..have something to do with ADD??...i wonder about me...
hahahha witty and funny.
thats good ..quite individualistic....
nice poetry........
cheers!
http://virtuously.blogspot.com/
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
very nice poem. keep it up:)
good one buddy...
hey... any one got some time to kill check out my blog...!
:) delightful
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