idbailey23

I take my coffee sweet, 

It's less bitter on my taste, 

It takes a little honey, 

And a dash of milk to make. 

If I love you were the last words that would roll upon my lips, 

Would they find themselves an alter, 

As you kissed my fingertips? 

I am but a Nation of creation under shared, 

My words and actions treat me as though I am unprepared. 

I know these shoes are bigger than could ever meet my feet, 

I don’t see myself in pictures hanging crooked on the wall, 

The shade of red that coats my cheeks can shift to none at all. 

For I might offer just a hunch to those in this dismay? 

I traveled on the cobblestone, 

This sweet and utter scent, 

It teases me with memories, 

Of often younger drenched. 

Dear Santa, 

I haven't quite proposed,  

For many moons I've prayed to you, 

Yet hurts to leave me lone.