My version.A Poem by Tatiana CasaliOut of all the likey things in our vast universe, from the grains on the dirt to the particles in the air. His smile was so unlike the likely. The edges would curve into the most peculiar miniscule painting I had ever layed eyes on. Constantly pondering about the many thoughts others would signify and portray.
He smelled of home-made coffee and a tinge of damaged goods. Still respledant and foolish despite his age and lack of identity.The smell came from an iron plate smacked down with grounds of pleasure, which he filled with water and suger doused with a bit of his grandfather's charisma. Otherwise his room would smell of prepared hay and pieces of artificial flavors combined with a child's perfume. His parents were always simple-minded ever since the begining of his birth so the smell was always brought on by his contemplative mind and stressful opinions.
His ears were delicate and bold, cute at rest, amazing at best. They were clean from top to bottom, no self-multilation and no puncture wounds. His hair was that of a black sheep. Crashing with curls of wonderous curves. But most of the time covered with hats of assorted colors mixed in with jazzy tunes, sweet romance and a lovely dash of head-banging. His eyes had the assortments of three worrisome colors. One black, one brown and one favorited green. The hours he spent introspecting himself and observing behavior as I call it, had left him with a masters in acting in situations in front of sidewalks and empty streets sipping on watered down saliva. © 2014 Tatiana Casali |
Stats
194 Views
2 Reviews Added on April 15, 2014 Last Updated on April 16, 2014 AuthorTatiana CasaliCape Coral, FLAboutHi, My name is Tati. What I mostly write about is my experiences in life and how I feel. I don't care if my writing is not good enough. I don't care id it doesn't fit your standards. I am not writing .. more..Writing
|