She says words like "beautiful" all the time
Her body makes me speak in rhymes
she cant be guilty of a crime.
So naive and lost in lore
floating on that forgotten shore
the thoughts sit lost to me.
Perfect is the fitting word
tailored exactly just for her,
she wouldnt believe me anyway.
That modesty she owns astounds,
sends compliments in circles, all around.
Still I try
as life goes by
Never to forget a goodbye
even though my mind is fryed
scrambled eggs on toast,
she loves me when im high.
As I wrote the thoughts she made me think
the blue pen ran out of ink.
So I switched to Blood-red
I am prepared to start the emotional trend
where once, Im fashionably fed.
She said not to apologize so much
but in her presence its a must.
Cant help feeling strange
or even close to deranged.
She doesnt find me crazy, or deals with it.
She makes me not lazy, and I deal with it.
Interlocking like gears in machines
I spend life with the love of my dreams.