Post by poetagringoir on Feb 26, 2011 20:21:01 GMT -5
He had stolen another wallet, and his life had spiraled down to the drink and staring at women. He was missing their soft and mystical auras. They attracted him so much, made his skin crawl . But even though he was an old man, he knew all to well that he was handsome.
Fair faced and with eyes like a hawk. The petit creature who had enchanted him so much a few weeks ago was gone, it had broken his heart made him almost at the verge of suicide. But no , no he would not fall on the path that had ruined his life. It truly had changed his way of seeing things as well.
Then again there was plenty of fish, if the dame returned he would welcome her with open arms. If the dame was gone then that was life. Like the French said, Cest la vie. Then again he had time, the whole world was his to play games with. But more so he was scanning now the crowds, the movement the sweat that dripped over the brows of his possible victims. Then again would there be a woman who would fall for him or would she make him fall. But women always made his heart weak, but how deep he would get that was the true idea.
Lying down he stared at the blinking lights on top of him as he was bored beyond belief. But then his head shifted to that of a thought, of a thought of what it would be like to be with a woman. What it would be like to wake up with her beside him, to hold her. To whisper sweat nothings, but then he was also a romantic a hopeless cause. He knew this to well, and yet why was he lodging this, this simple act of words and actions. To much love , buried in his heart and he had no one to express it to, how pathetic was that.
Sniffing the air, he noticed a slight aroma in the air as he opened his eyes and stood up quickly. His head shifting left and right with feral nature to find the cent of the woman who had such sweet floral aroma. But with all he saw, he saw nothing . Why could he not find her, god she had to appear now . She had to.
Fair faced and with eyes like a hawk. The petit creature who had enchanted him so much a few weeks ago was gone, it had broken his heart made him almost at the verge of suicide. But no , no he would not fall on the path that had ruined his life. It truly had changed his way of seeing things as well.
Then again there was plenty of fish, if the dame returned he would welcome her with open arms. If the dame was gone then that was life. Like the French said, Cest la vie. Then again he had time, the whole world was his to play games with. But more so he was scanning now the crowds, the movement the sweat that dripped over the brows of his possible victims. Then again would there be a woman who would fall for him or would she make him fall. But women always made his heart weak, but how deep he would get that was the true idea.
Lying down he stared at the blinking lights on top of him as he was bored beyond belief. But then his head shifted to that of a thought, of a thought of what it would be like to be with a woman. What it would be like to wake up with her beside him, to hold her. To whisper sweat nothings, but then he was also a romantic a hopeless cause. He knew this to well, and yet why was he lodging this, this simple act of words and actions. To much love , buried in his heart and he had no one to express it to, how pathetic was that.
Sniffing the air, he noticed a slight aroma in the air as he opened his eyes and stood up quickly. His head shifting left and right with feral nature to find the cent of the woman who had such sweet floral aroma. But with all he saw, he saw nothing . Why could he not find her, god she had to appear now . She had to.