Miss you, little miss.
Like the streets of Paris.
The cafés and the bliss.
Of leaning in for a kiss.
Miss you, little miss.
And the taste of your lips.
As the soft morning mist.
Gently tumbles and drips.
Miss you, little miss.
Miss your smile.
Miss your hips.
Miss your eyes.
Miss your quips.
But I’d be remiss.
My sweet little miss.
If what I most missed.
Wasn’t your ravishing wits.
Other Poems
Her
Never Nevermore
One Plus No One
Other Written Work
Three Word Movie Reviews
The Tall Tales and Wordly Musings of Atticus William Carnegie
Visual Art
Custom Nike Air Force 1
Project F.T.B.
Music
Remixes