Love, Grammatically.
I will always be subject,
Trapped there for dust to collect,
He is my direct object,
Behind a glass predicate.
We are a one way door,
(An easy, breezy metaphor),
A smile- I abhor,
This door like I do a metaphor.
Commas separate,
Prepositions I hate,
Since he is always inside their gates,
These linking verbs just isolate.
No compound sentence can deliver the deed,
To deliver what I really need-
"He loves me,"
Not the opposite- my defeat.
Love, Grammatically
This poem is not about my life or anything. I just got an inspiration for it sort of out of the blue... I have no secret crush or anything. Just bored and I thought this might turn out cool. Please comment/rate. Honesty appreciated.Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
