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Lucky Number Nine.

Until I can recite my times tables off by heart.

Until I can be serious, without laughing.

Once I've stopped opening my eyes whilst being kissed.

 

My lucky number nine, that's what you'll be.

 

When I've ceased romanticizing reality.

No longer found to be complaining.

Sung a song of sixpence.

Learnt another language.

Baked an apple pie from scratch.

 

When I'm least expecting it.

 

My lucky number nine, that's what you'll be.

◄ Forget The Forgive.

These Days. ►

Comments

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Andy N

Tue 13th Jul 2010 07:59

i hinted at this on f/book last night, Georgina but this really has the feel of a song in it to me (would be a very short song of course however)... but you should certainly keep believing in yourself with your work... i remember what my work was like when i was your age and i'll tell you for nothing - it was no-where near as good! x

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 12th Jul 2010 12:18

Delightful, Georgina. A personality encapsulated. I really enjoyed it. Maybe because I often laugh when I'm supposed to be serious; and I always kiss with my eyes open.

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