Sunday, July 17, 2011

Little Ole' Me

Little ole' me...
Little ole' me...

Last time I looked right into your eyes I had died a little inside,

Little ole' me,
Brush my cheek,
Brush my cheek,

The room was bright,
Your hands in mine havin' a good time,
Brush my cheek

I was sitting on your lap, 
You' were exploring my body,
No words were being said,
But our eyes kept on sayin' I want you,
I want you in my bed
I want you against me

Now God hates me,
God hates me,
But he kept on tellin me that you weren't worth a dime and I should just walk on by...
God loves me.

5 comments:

Christine Benson said...

I struggle with this one but I think it's because you will always be a seventh grader. Lol. How does the speaker feel? Is it supposed to change throughout the poem?

Anonymous said...

I get what you're trying to portray, but the way you put it, you aren't bringing the reader there. This feeling is deep and eats your bones, you kind of gave a nibble on the skin making me wince and not enjoy reading it. The structure should possibley be revisited as well, how you built it doesn't make much sense. But I have no connection with it, just can tell what you're talking about.

- Darrah

Alex Marshall said...

The speaker is hurt, the speaker feels stupid and can only think about the memories they've shared, but then realizes it was all for the best. Lol, I wrote this like a little over a year ago, thats probably why it makes no sense at a point and I have been trying to revise it.

StayGolden said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Alex Marshall said...

It was originally a song(: