She isn't interested in your wishful
rhymes,
Mere verses don't make you a knight
Unless the verses are a bridge
To the lands where her heart beats faster
A land where she opens her heart to love
and all the celestial bodies,
you could think up verses Pablo Neruda never
dared to dream,
You could invent words Shakespeare forget
But it wouldn't mean much to her
Verses help paint the ideal love
and validate her beauty, value
but when the rubber hits the road,
you well crafted poem appears jumbled words
and you'll be left nursing your aches
lamenting about about lost love
But it takes more than verses
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