To the one whose voice is string,
reeling me in for more and more.
To the one my thoughts are circling,
as I'm walking out the door.
To the picture on my desk smirking,
to the one I can't ignore.
To the one my thoughts are circling,
as I'm walking out the door.
For in my mind the keys are working,
I think of naught but he-I-adore,
the one my thoughts are circling,
as I'm walking out the door.
Colors wildly dancing and berserking,
and your form will take the floor.
For you're the one my thoughts are circling
as I'm walking out the door.

















Comments
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Oh, thou salty libertine,
Shed not thine tears of pale marine,
Upon my rusted moon-machine.
yes, i agree with RDraconis; the rhyming is well done, and repeating doesnt always work, but you hit it on the spot.
Its surprising what the heart can do that many people do not even know about. it goes far beyond just imagination.
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