I still cannot see the way she walks
   How her breast pawned towards the wall
Her stripe mouthed shoes squeaking amidst us all,
   With the earl grey gown i bought; she never wore
I pondered around like a deaf Amish boy,
    Sighs of confusion brewing and spouted thoughts,
When she moved in lost, she moves more way than one
     She talk and talks she never stopped,
She balanced in delight of her looks,
     And amidst us all; we know what she wants
And now how she walks.


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~Randomness rocks, and Poetry Rules~ steven Cory Garcia

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