Meet me in the future

I want to meet you someday,
Long after we last met.
I want to see you after ages
And I want to hear the stories you have to tell.
I want to walk with you and talk with you
And tell you how I've been.
I want to know you like I didn't before,
I want to breathe you and take you in.
I want to know the places you seen
And the people you met on the way.
I want to know of the burdens you carried
Or the obstacles you faced every day.
But all this, I want to know of you,
Only after ten years or maybe nine.
For now I don't want to see you,
I don't want our paths to intertwine.
For at this moment we aren't meant to be,
But years from now, maybe you and I could be.
And it may be too late, you will have already moved on.
But I'm okay with that, if that's what's meant to be.
But if and when we meet again,
I hope we can sit and laugh
And think about the good times we've shared.
For 10 years down the line, if I do feel for you in anyway.
It will be cause you never left me nine or ten years ago on that dreadful day.
And I won't say it, I won't admit it at all.
I'm too proud to willingly take the fall.
But promise me that when we meet,
If sparks fly like they did back then,
Baby, if you still have room for me
Don't leave me ever again.

There's poetry in you

There's poetry in you
But it's like you can't read.
There's magic in your words,
But it's like you don't believe.
You're a piece of art, a work of a master.
You're a rare one, the hope after a disaster.
There's music in the way you dance,
You're a blend of war and peace at first glance.
You're the cold night and the warm day,
You're the showers that come after a warm May.
But more than anything you're so oblivious.
You don't see it, you don't care for the obvious.
There's grace in your being, there are stars in your eyes.
The moon is jealous, it's like you came to me from the skies.
Sweetheart, must you be so mesmerizing!
You're more pleasing than the sun setting or rising.
You're the sound of the waves, the lash of the tide,
You're the shelter to the homeless, to the little ones, a hide.
But darling, if only you knew,
There truly is poetry in you.