My words and my voice, isn't yours.
Smoulder Whisper
Monday, March 8, 2010

And there he was,
Staring into my eyes as a child stares at candy.
He was an image of perfection.
His eyes were so full of mystery, like a treasure wanting it to be opened.
He could win any girl's heart,
But he was awaiting my response to the question.
My stomach was churning like milk in a blender.
My heart was beating as if i had just run a marathon.
I was so excited that he had asked me,
Not just any girl, but me.
All i had to do was get the words out,
But it was hard.
His perfection stunned my thoughts,
Yet i managed to reply in a cool manner,
The words flowing off my lips as water flows through a stream.
"Sure, you can borrow my pencil."


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Hey, I'm Norule, already 15. And my personal assistant for this blog is Shafiqah. If she feels that she wants to blog, she will blog. She always quotes so that's how you can tear apart the differences. Oh yeah, the person who wore the yellow shirt is Shafiqah. That's all, bye



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