There are many things he yearns to say,
His gentle organ forever fumbling and beating fast;
Why does it seem his words get shoved away?
Alas, it appears he is out of her caste.
Heart ripped from the lure,
At home, he feels gazing at your eyes, mesmerized with many stars a twinkle,
Thinking, “have I finally found the cure?”
Brushing, brushing cheek so soft, all except her charming crinkle.
You, my dear, are some kind of delightful:
Taking a leap in loving somebody,
Adoring your intellect, a wildflower so insightful;
Expression so deep and binary, the world sees your warmest soul.
Many a time I’ve promised to be your knight;
Painting and preserving these memories in the vault,
Out of my grasp, another love is slain; much like Juliet at her height,
Often confessed that love is painful, so darling I’m hurting, and it's my fault.
Alas, as accustomed they part ways—time for another fresh start,
Through it all nothing but façade and weakness;
Wanting to be with her was simply baiting the heart.
A Girl And Her Pen
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