A little jewel I found in my Documents folder
I, ah, apparently wrote this back in August 2010. I don't know why or how it was inspired, but, by the title, I do know it is from Balfour's point of view, and most likely to Adamo. It's not brilliant, has no real rhyme scheme or pattern, but that's not how I write poetry anyway. So, here it is, under the cut because of possible suckiness:
If only you knew,
If only I could tell you,
Everthing in my heart,
My soul.
But you are not that kind of man.
I would hold you,
Kiss you,
Shower you in gifts
And love.
But you are not that kind of man.
If you knew,
You would burn my flesh with your kisses,
Make my blood race with your hands,
And the rest of your body.
But you are not that kind of man.
Or if you knew,
You would turn me away,
You would scorn me,
Kick me out.
Or the others would,
Because I’m not your kind of man.
If only I could tell you,
But you can never know…
If only you knew,
If only I could tell you,
Everthing in my heart,
My soul.
But you are not that kind of man.
I would hold you,
Kiss you,
Shower you in gifts
And love.
But you are not that kind of man.
If you knew,
You would burn my flesh with your kisses,
Make my blood race with your hands,
And the rest of your body.
But you are not that kind of man.
Or if you knew,
You would turn me away,
You would scorn me,
Kick me out.
Or the others would,
Because I’m not your kind of man.
If only I could tell you,
But you can never know…