porcelina of the ocean sea
epitome of all who beauty see
take my hand, come with me
and lie with me forever be

my heart to you is what i give
for you my love is why i live
let you now in my arms be
your lips on mine can touch it thee

porcelina of the ocean sea
epitome of all who beauty see
take my hand, come with me
and lie with me my eunice schnee

my heart to you is what i give
for you my love is why i live
let you now in my arms be
your lips on mine can touch it thee

do you think i have what it takes to be a goethe or a shakespeare

only after you're dead

Well you have a heart beat so probably no.

What does:
mean?

What is schnee? (snow?).

C-
Could do better

pootle flump ur codings are working excelent.

Ah plop - slow fingers

pootle flump ur codings are working excelent.

Neither of these losers could write a line of SQL to save their lives.

Eunice?

Eunice is the name of your spinster aunt, not your lover.

What's next? "Ode to Bertha"?

my eunice schnee

beautiful girl, wherever you are
i knew when i saw you you had opened the door
i knew that id love again after a long long while
i love again
you said hello and I turned to go
but something in your eyes left my heart beating so
i just knew that i love again after a long long while
i rove again

it was destinys game
when love finally came on
i rushed in rine onry to find
that you were gone

wherever you are i fear that i might
have lost you forever like a song in the night
now that ive loved again after a long long while
ive loved again

beautiful girl ill search on for you
until all of your loveliness in my arms come true
youve made me love again after a long long while
i love again
and I'm glad that it's you

Please go away and leave me to my bitter loneliness...

a restless night
a full ash tray
pictures of you
my cold empty bed

modern poetry does not rhyme most of the time and anyone can do it. I came up with this for you while making my coffee. i have words of caution for aspiring artists. When I was growing up, I had a several friends who thought they were special because they could play music, paint, draw, rap, or they had volumes of poetry and prose they had written. Their teachers all fed into their artistic delusions just as they fed into mine and I considered these kids and teachers no different than the coaches and local star athletes. In fact I lumped them all together under the heading of having “hoop dreams”. A lot of these kids who put all of their eggs into this basket are still living at home or got into some misadventure or another and those that gave up have had a hard time reorienting to the real world.

Stay in school and do your homework. It is ok to have hobbies but they call them starving artists for a reason.

Outstanding! The best prose in this thread!