Don't say strange things
Love things that make me die
I won't steal a radio
I won't be an angel
Don't say things that make me die
Dance 'till you'll cry
I told lies around my angel
I won't be round
Don't say you love me
Don't say you'll cry
I screw my angel
You're still my song on the radio
But don't say things
Make me dance 'till we're high
Don't say you'll cry
Don't say you love me
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Poem-A-Day: Day 518
Don’t Say You Love Me
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Drop a line, a quip, a snippet, your pants, or an anecdote...just don't drop the soap.