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Mind of its own

Spinning the bottle,

it’s pointing at you.

I say I don’t care,

truth is I do.

Now there’s no running,

no place to hide.

Lost track on counting,

the times that I‘ve tried.

Tired of hiding,

the truth that’s inside.

So I’ve decided,

to give it a shot tonight.

Expressed my feelings,

Guess I’ve always known.

That my f*cking heart,

Has a mind of its own. 


The poem gave it all. Poetry writing is like painting- hiding the real meaning through images. You could have used the bottle as an in image for your feelings that is confused but at the moment it was pointed to the guy you know that is love already or something like that. What you did is your just told us what happens during a spin-bottle-game and almost every reader had already felt that experience. Remember, the magic in poetry lies in making symbols and images as your thought stream.