I envisioned him in all his splendid glory
Never once did the thought pass through my head
That he was a character in a story
Only real when I dream and lay in bed
His hair was curly blonde silk;
his cerulean eyes dancing
The ivory of his skin; the beauty of dawn
Surrounding the angel was entrancing
I never saw him, no snapshot of his head
I never met him, no cerulean eyes locking on mine
It was hard to put this angel in the back of my mind;
in the dust, in the cobwebs of my mind
That character in a story
That angelic vision in my head
Who only came to life as I dreamt, and laid in bed
Quit freaking me out you weirdo!
I like weirdos. Show me some more poetry.
