This one's started out as an attempt to write a
Shakespearian sonnet, but I wasn't sure about the grammer so
it turned into a normal poem, inspired br a recent (and
fairly annoying) crush. I hate those.


My eyes widen to catch the light
that shines upon your fair comlexion.
If I touch you, my touch would be light,
lest I mar your sweet perfection.

Your voice sooths me when I feel bleak,
making me talk and laugh.
As often as I might hear you speak,
I won't ever hear you enough.

But still I know that you're not mine
and never will you be,
for I might make your eyes shine
but you're not meant for something like me.

For why would someone of such perfection
ever even look in my direction?