To get all sentimental,
And then attempt
To write a bit of verse-
Well, you know,
Filled with great eloquence,
Concerning all of my love for you:
Striving to be so very poetic-
But no doubt,
Instead-
Coming off
Like some run-of-the-mill
Love-struck fool.
Sometimes I get it into my mind,
That I can completely spellbind:
Only to turn around,
And realize-
That I've totally lost
The entire consistency
Of the rhyme.
But babe,
You always look,
And smile at me-
Seeming very pleased:
For you love the words
I've put together
For what they mean-
Even though a poet
I may not be.
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