No Title
A poem without a title was written,
based on an undeniable feeling.
In that moment I was simply smitten.
This couldn’t have been typewritten
the way my mind you kept consuming.
A poem without a title was written.
Without a box for musings to fit in
my unprepared heart was left reeling,
in that moment I was simply smitten.
Allowing the words to be handwritten
an outlet for what I was concealing,
a poem without a title was written.
Safe to say that I was badly bitten,
my skin left broken, raw, and peeling.
In that moment I was simply smitten.
To let all of this out I’ve been sittin’
pining over all you’ve been stealing.
A poem without a title was written,
in that moment I was simply smitten.
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