Beautiful

 

Would you hate me if I told

you I found you beautiful? Or if

I professed how much I enjoy

professing to you? Would you?

 

I'd like to let you know how much I

like to be with you. Or that when the

two of us are together, I can't think

of any place on Earth I'd rather be.

 

For some reason, I can't tell you the

sum of my feelings. Or that out

of all the girls I've met, out of

all the places I've been, I'd choose you.

 

So, I'm stuck here thinking of beauty and

I'm trapped here longing desperately to be

trapped by you, but in the end, I'm

by myself, writing a poem about you.