I want to write you a song,
A sonnet,
A prose.
A sweet little nothing
That everyone knows.
I've tried to take others,
A common love song.
But they weren't for you,
No.
They were all wrong.
I wanted it to be special,
To be different,
Unique.
I wanted to make
Your knees feel weak.
But nothing was working.
Nothing was right.
I was ready for failure,
To give up the fight.
But then you stopped by
And took my hand in yours.
You smiled,
You winked,
You helped with the chores.
You calmed all my nerves,
With one thoughtless look.
And that was the moment
That my heart
You took.
There's no way to explain it,
No words to display,
The way that I felt
When you took
My breath
Away.
So I can't write you a prose,
Or a sonnet,
Or song.
Nothing can explain
That with you
I belong.
For an old friend. No longer true but still just as pretty.