Poem about love: My John Wayne boy
You said you never feel lonely
I could never get over that
We learned in class about some of your traits
An offbeat tendency to act relentless with your rage
The time capsules get dimmer the more we age
Born awkward and sour
The man finds his power
Resting on golden wings of a tranquil dreamscape
Favourite thing to do is to make pretty girls wait
All the right looks, though never able to relate
Slips through fractures, a constant change in state
How can it be this impossible to communicate
You locked all the doors and I can’t escape
With my love, my love
My patience, my love
My network of genes that cast shadows and glimpses
Upon me like several hundred suns
Making sure I am perceptible to the common eye
The idealist way of living
Captured stones and the complications of modern-day decision-making
Moons I don’t know the names of
Wait for the right moment
Wait for it to feel right
I promise I’m only made of immeasurable love
It just doesn’t matter, that’s what I was afraid of
Treating girls like you’re the man himself, John Wayne
Laconic, bashful, wading in the wash
Walking ‘round town like there’s something on your mind
Always looking down but never checking behind
The childlike part of you always so afraid
Couldn’t stop wondering what made a man that way
I got nine-hundred-ninety dollars and I want a new amp
You spent your life dreaming of the things you can’t have
At night your back hurts, no amount of pills for that
You spent your life savings wanting wealth so bad
Always stuck choosing between sweeter or sour
I look at you with fresh eyes
You don’t mirror my gaze
I count your neurotransmitters, tell you which are out of phase
Never tell you the number
I know you’re scared, my boy
I spent years trying to convince you life is for us to enjoy
But I’m just a girl, and you’re just a boy
I’m just a girl, and you’re just a boy
My lingering look unsettles you
Patience is for the people that simply can’t handle it
If you want to start over, you will have to manage it
Before your day trips come full circle, you can’t abandon it
Nobody got love by simply demanding it
I know a thing or two about vinyl & coffee ice cream
I could write an anthology filled with my daydreams
It’s nice on paper when nobody can hear your screams
In the rose garden we were seemingly scared of nothing
I couldn’t get my eyes off the deep green trees
The whole way home
Whatever you’ve got inside, you’ll never show
Those aren’t husband qualities – I know, you know
Have you ever thought of what it could be like to come home
You said you never feel lonely
I could never get over that
Rest your head, go to sleep
Think of love, try to imagine it
You don’t know what to think of
You don’t know what to think of
You don’t know what to think of
You don’t know what to think of
I could write an anthology filled with my daydreams
It’s nice on paper when nobody can hear your screams
Discover more from Lilac Dove
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.