Fleeting

I saw her on the train ride home

She was sitting next to me

But we’re separated

By the aisle

 

Her legs were pale and her skirt short

And the sun shone down on them

Enticing me to think

Impure thoughts

 

Blonde hair fell around two blue eyes

That caught mine for a moment

When they were drawn lower

To her neck

 

She was a picture of heaven

And I wanted to enter

But I watched her leave me

At her stop

 

I did not talk to that girl

Because she could not be better

Than as I saw her then

And that night

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About Greg Moss

25 year old English and Media Graduate based in Manchester, UK. Contact me at: literatureandlethargy@gmail.com
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6 Responses to Fleeting

  1. Keep trying to like your poetry but it doesn’t seem to let me on my phone!! So just letting you know really like what you do!! 🙂

    Like

  2. jsmalls1974 says:

    I’ve had sooo many train rides. You brought back a lot of memories. At one time, I wished to be that girl. I did have long blonde hair with hazel eyes. I was fit as a fiddle. I was too shy…

    Like

    • Greg Moss says:

      Shyness wouldn’t come into it. She wasn’t a real girl. It’s the idea of the girl thats intriguing, actually speaking to her would ruin it.

      Like

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