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If life were a poem, there would be no such thing as rhyming.
The Playful Fray of Pride and Curiosity


The cars have shuttened through the night
The birds are sleeping out comes the fright

Two remaining souls
stay up and fight
For the contemplation of one other's
Mysterious and wonderous sight

As pride and curiosity
argue away
The verge of flirting
Turns the situation into a playful fray

Would it be possible?
For her to deny me in such way?
Should I really acknowlege
That checkmate I must say?

Never, shall I ever
Should I give up to satisfy her needs
For what she desires the most
Is to see me indeed.

Call me egocentric
Then call her masochist
I bet that over this screen
She is biting deep in her fist.

How shall I seduce
Such powerful mind?
I shall play all my tricks,
A way I must find.


For a girl named Ali, whom she did not wish to see my picture. She ended up doing so, anyway, due to this poem and a story.





 
 
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