Past Poetry (8)

She’s a ten, and I’m a five.
She’s born to live and I’m born to thrive.
It doesn’t fit if I go near.
But I try so hard to have nothing to fear.

For the delicate hand I chose to hold.
I would never touch as what I’ve been told.
It would be a dream, an unending one.
It would be hard and rough, it’d be no fun.

But who am I to see it like that?
Who am I to believe it like that?
I am the one never wanting to leave.
For she has my heart right up on her sleeve.

She is taking up most of my time.
I could sue her you know, if it was a crime.
But I’d rather not, and let her run in my mind.
‘Cause it makes me happy in my daily grind.

If given the time, and given the chance.
I’ll kidnap her from her home and bring her to France.
And I’ll be the best prince she’ll ever have.
‘Cause I’ll love her with a love she deserves to have.

Dated: November 24, 2010
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