Let me start by telling you how I feel.
Like a bird weighted down with wings of steel.
Yet, these simple words to you I can't say.
scared a stuttering tongue gets in the way.
Still even if I could utter these words?
Is love or is a dove one of the birds?
This irrational logic has to stop.
Why is a beauty so clear and so plain?
Why is it causing me so so much pain?
With your skin silky soft serene as butter,
And why must your smile make hearts flutter.
If only telling you this could do good.
I'm writing all it out in hopes it would.
Still you have others I can't hope to top.
Now I'm rambling on and on in verse.
In a poem I intended to be terse.
So to end this, I finish off with this,
not quite innocent request for a kiss.
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