Poetry About Liking Someone Novels & Stories

You have no idea what I feel every single time that I've seen you. N: O.o please don't tell me you've written a poem about it 😂. M:... N: P.S if you have, I'm not speaking to you again. M: Maybe I have 😉 . That's for me to know and you to not find out. N:.... M: What's wrong with poems by the way? N: I don't think there's a problem with them. I actually think they're cool and appreciate them when I see them. I just don't like the idea of having one written for me.

She thought to herself as his voice continued to ring in her ears. He said, “In my opinion, liking someone is an instant reaction. Perhaps some people take a couple of days, and some don’t even need a day. Nonetheless… there is no reason for you to believe that only after liking someone for a long time, can it be deemed as true love...”

I blurted out. Silence. I could practically hear the confusion in her pause. “Ma’am?” she said slowly. I sighed. “I asked… how do you know if you like someone?” She was quiet for a second, but when she spoke again, her voice was calm—almost like she was smiling. “Well…” she said, “liking someone is a beautiful thing.” I raised a brow. “Is it?” She chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, it is. It’s when your heart beats a little faster when they’re around. When their presence makes your day better. When you find yourself smiling at their texts and missing them when they’re not there.”

I added under my breath, my chest sinking. “Hey.” Her hand left the blade for a moment. She caught my chin between her fingers and turned my face toward hers. Her eyes pinned me in place. “Don’t speak of yourself that way,” she said, firm but gentle. My lips parted, but no words came out. “Now,” she continued, “tell me. What do you like? A flower, perhaps. Everyone has a favorite.” Her question caught me off guard. But slowly, a picture rose in my mind. “Daffodils,” I said. “I like daffodils. They… they make me think of sunlight.”

He said and she nodded sadly. She walked towards the paper and took the pen, about to scribble her signature, he stood and spoke, "hold on!" She turned to him, this time, there was already tears in her face. He spoke rather gently, "what is there to like about me, woman?" "I know it's weird that I like you when infact, everyone hates you. But I choose my poison and it's you," she said and lowered her head. "Getting close to me is too dangerous for you. I have too many enemies and too many dark secretes all of which will devour anyone around me."

Ling Weihao looked at her gently and said softly. "I know you like my mommy very much. Can you tell me what it's like to like someone?" Xin Yan sat next to him, looked up, blinking eyes at him, a very serious look. "If you like a person, the feeling is that your heart will beat faster, you will feel excited, you will be stunned for a moment, and your mind will be blank for a while... Also, your face will be hot!" Ling Weihao recalled how he really liked someone and said to Xin Yan.

Ambrose sighs. “Sure you do, baby!” I say confidently “all of your poems can be turned into songs easily enough. Which brings me to something that I have been wanting to talk to you about. That day when I came to you at brunch and we got back together…I …um…I had read a poem that you wrote. You said you had never been into guys but this one poem was about a pretty boy in a cafe and you had talked about how he looked and moved and how lively and happy he seemed, but the line that got me was when you were wondering what it would be like to kiss his lips. I realized then that maybe you just are very specific in what you prefer for people with a penis.”

"No, it's just… before, I had taken a liking towards you because of something else—your body, your personality, your face. But now, this fondness within me that flows around you, reminds me that I like you because… you're just you." "Does that even make sense?" She asked. "I like you for who you are, Charlotte—and nothing else," I said with a smile. This sudden confession shook her and to myself. I didn't know why, life was filled with confusion, yet I still wanted to express what my heart was telling me. "Say," Charlotte said, letting go of me, staring at my face. "What are your likes and dislikes?" She asked, with a grin. I pinched her cute, and rosy cheeks as I answered, "My likes are you

The crescent moon standing in radiant light, so does the light linger round our souls, intertwining. The sands standing firm in earthly adornment, like an immovable roadside tree, so does my love stand bellicose and accoutred—a lion, Immortal as God The dusts spiraling into a whirlwind, so does my mind spiral at the thought of you as i teleport into a utopia of endless possibilities.

Emma curled up the love letter, fiddling with it in her palm. Even if this person is always indifferent and arrogant to everyone like a white swan, so what? He likes me! Even if this person is well-educated, has excellent qualities, what if the old lady is treated as a treasure every day? He likes me! The wonderful feeling that can hardly be used in visual language runs straight from the soles of the feet to every hair, so pleasant that it is hard to hate laughing out loud for a few hours. "If you don't understand something, you can ask me."