PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Today is the first of April of Two Thousand Four;
Supposedly, it is the grand finale of Spring Break,
But it's just a day of being alone of many more
To come; I've tried to fare for goodness sake;
I'm still lonesome from my hostile depression
And I shall officially become a man in nine days;
Yes, the lovely big eighteen with less aggression
Will come for me like other years in a fine gaze;
My, oh how the years pass so swift and quick,
And the minutes I've counted come so slow
As I get my temperature and find myself lovesick;
I believe that it is now time for you to know
The real April Fool's Day fool about you
Who is heavily lost in the your eyes each time
Is none other than myself without you;
So is loving an older woman really such a crime?

I have been deceive a time or three
And I've delighted being a fool in love so much;
Nothing like this had ever come over me
From the tenderness of a single touch;
You truly make my ripped body quiver
And the one for whom my heart does dance
With a passionate thought only you can deliver;
Baby, you made me want to take this very chance;
I may be youthful indeed yet I too am mature;
I would love to speak my life, baby,
With the woman that makes me feel secure
And who would love to be my lady.

The evening perhaps is still young,
But I've completely made up my mind this time;
I know that in your arms is where I am belong;
Here tonight, I ultimately believe you'll be mine;
For the past months, I've wept in my sleep;
Did I really deserve to cry each lonely night
When it for you whom I had to weep?
Do not take my will away and toss my might;
I agree that it is you who has the upper hand,
An advantage over me the name of love
And it is you I long to fathom or understand;
Am I not the only one you dream of?

Women conplain about having a man,
One with great and sheer sensitivity;
With the given chance to be that, I know I can
Be that man for you with a trifle of ability,
Because you could make the difficult
Seem to be something like a mediocre ease;
There is not a reason for a tumult
When I yearn to see you as a lady pleased;
I am perpetuate myself as man who cares
And that is solely for the certain;
I am your only April fool whose passion flares
Once we begin to close the curtain.