From: Corvina
To: Anne
I could have gone about my life the same
from day to day according to my plan
had not she chosen then to say my name,
for with that word the tumult she began.
With easy smile she flooded through my soul
and washed out all the things that held me back,
and once I was no longer in control
I had no back-up plans to there enact.
For my love is like the lightning's sudden strike,
which careless of its strength and blinding flash,
scars all the hills and trees and hearts alike
where'ere it deigns to turn the land to ash.
Yet never have I been more grateful than
I am for this calamity—My Anne.
From: Anne
To: Corvina
I never understood how poets think
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
to twist their rhymes, words so in sync,
or craft a clever metaphor
with 'as' and 'like' and so much more.
Or does that make a smilie?
I simply do not know, you see.
But for all my faults that you might find,
when you placed your lips on mine
and I knew at last that this was real,
I understood how poets feel
From: Eva
To: Anne
What I've always known is that
in this world there is pain
and there is you.
There are wicked people in this world
and I can often feel my own sin
crawling underneat my skin searching
for any break or tear to claw its way out.
But also, there is you.
And there is ugliness in this world.
When I look at my own reflection
in a mirror and feel my stomach churn,
I remind myself that somewhere,
out there,
hopefully nearby,
is you.
But if I am to understand that you
are gone now from this world,
then will you tell me, please?
What is to become of pleasure
and goodness
and beauty?
For I no longer know where to find them.
From: Agis
To: Helen
Trees are green
Arrows are sharp
You are so cute
you've stolen my hearp?
Arrows are sharp
Trees are green
I like you so much
won't you be mine (but say it like mean)
Arrows are sharp
poems are hard
I'll see you tomorrow for archery practice
From: Sebastian
To: ????
I do not know yet what to say,
or if you've stolen my heart away,
but as we sit under this canopy,
I wonder what you might mean to me?
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