Poem in Your Pocket | Short Poem No. 16

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I have a poem in my pocket.

I keep in closed like a locket.

I’m biding my time. When will I feel fine?

My heart is beating well past its design.

I have a poem on this paper.

To turn back now, I’d be a traitor.

I push myself out into to the field.

Our eyes meet, my weapon I wield.

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I have this poem in my pocket.

Its words will shoot out like a rocket.

And finally, I’ll have you where I want you,

smitten by the words of Joey Blue.

And, finally, you’ll fall in love with me,

your unsuspecting knight.

I’ll win you this rhyme with love,

because I wrote every word just right.

Photo by Tom Holmes on Unsplash.

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