New Orleans Story

ABout my first love, who inspired me to write in the first place

If love owned wings she would be my angel
As my eyes pierce the sky from a 90 degree angle
She belongs to New Orleans
And I’m of unimportance
She has my  soul and heart in each hand
I sit down cause I don’t understand
Love’s tangible demise
Shown in my eyes
As the realization of it’s death is realized
Lungs deflate
I cough as I suffocate
I dream of Love’s rebirth, but I see no phoenix
 I feel her in me, loves seamstress
“Repair it’s fabric”
I drown in it’s sea, ever so tragic
No breathing apparatus near
As I leave the atmosphere
Of her pull, but I fail
And love prevails
Over all
And I fall
Back into her pull, again
I hate the would friends
Love will be my doom
I realize, she’s my earth and I’m the moon

I love her reluctantly, just the feeling isn’t mutual
Love turns the Gods mortal, I feel unusual

I realizing as I dream I was still suffocating
                                    Kevon
 

Author's Note

say what you feel, say what real

Reviews

[Wildfleour]

Love is such a powerful force, like the pull of the moon. If we could control the tide, we could control who we love, but we can't.