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Ink Heart Scribbles Not I,

Ink Heart Scribbles Not I...

I didn’t write this pencilled scribble,
no way, I’d say it’s part dribble.
To scratch on a piece of paper
with a pencil, the embarrassment,
to make your mark with a quill.

To me it’s ridiculous best admit it won’t work,
trying to write about love, don’t be a jerk .
Could not fall in love then picks up a pen,
tries to scribe stories about how he felt then.

Come on how did you feel when you
saw her first time, how dry was your
lips, did you hear a bell chime.

Crazy word love don’t even know what
it means, could your heart race that
fast again, now your out of your teens.

All at once she was there, my
thoughts were a mess, every
nerve end I had, caught fire I guess.

Tried hard to be cool, but I just could
not speak, walked around with thoughts
of her, in each day dream for a week.

Then in desperation or courage I
asked for a date, that week seemed
too long for this young man to wait.

First night we spent alone was like
a musical score, we walked and
talked I tried hard not to bore.

Even then it was clear that this was
something much more, as I watched this
gentle kind being, I would learn to adore.

Every moment was full my days
were just grace, can’t think
of a better time, word or place

She walked with an air there was a
scent to her hair, when she looked
in my eyes, no one else was there.

Her touch was so soft, I’d even
heard that song, eyes deepest
blue, that image is still strong.

How cold were those nights that we
spent apart, not hearing her voice,
didn’t I just have to be so smart.

If this was love then I don’t want
to fight, soon I’m left knowing
I don’t want her out of my sight

So now our loves grown way beyond
teenage years, we came through a lot,
tough times joyful tears.

I can look to my past, and know
I was right, understanding that she
hasn’t changed from that night.

That beautiful girl who'd reach
for my hand, taught me how to love,
respect and cherish, never demand.

Helped mould this man still with dreams
as you read now, who looks at her yet,
marvels, can’t stop thinking wow.

No I never wrote this wouldn’t
know where to start, no this scribbles
not mine, it belongs to a heart.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
I left the beginning as i had scribbled it, then the rest just made sense.
Editing stage: 

Comments

This is a lot longer than the poems we normally post at neo but I stuck it out and read it a couple of times, there were a few lines that could be shortened, sometimes saying less is more, but I enjoyed the story and I will watch revisions to see where you end up .... im just reading and commenting tonight i will get my editors pen on in a couple of days lol if you want me to come back and leave my thoughts I would be delighted :)

love Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Please do, I'd love to hear your thoughts. And thanks for commenting. Love Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

author comment

I took a copy and i will edit and show you my thoughts sorry I didnt notice your comment till just now

love JC xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I didn’t write this pencilled scribble,
no way, I’d say it’s part dribble.
To scratch on a piece of paper - to scratch on a fallen leaf
with a pencil, the embarrassment,
to make your mark with a quill.

To me it’s ridiculous best admit it won’t work,
trying to write about love, don’t be a jerk .- attempting a write about love, dont be a jerk
Could not fall in love then picks up a pen,- I could not fall in love so picked up a pen
tries to scribe stories about how he felt then.- trying to scribe stories about how he felt then

Tried hard to be cool, but I just could
not speak, walked around with thoughts
of her, in each daydream for a week.- daydream I think is one word

Helped mould this man still with dreams- helping mould this man still with dreams
as you read now, who looks at her yet,
marvels, can’t stop thinking wow.

I read through your poem and there wasnt much that needed changing my suggestions
are just that suggestions or maybe another way to go take what you need and throw out the rest

love JC xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I read this heart writing-though long- with much joy.In fact I found that the lengthening is giving some details I loved to know so nothing I have to crit.
A typo
to long for this young man to wait......(too long...)

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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I have corrected typo, and i think i maybe back at this poem a few times more. Thank you for commenting. Love Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

author comment

You have laid out your feelings from over a period of time, these feelings are sacred to your ways, thank you for scribbling your thoughts as they came to you about your love and the life you have.
There is nothing that can be said other than Beautiful.
There are things that can be changed but I think that the rough words all the way through are made with a loving Pen,
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Thank you Ian for the kind comment, it was easy to write this one. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

author comment
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