I could write another boring story of her comprehensive beauty,
How all before her are brought to a pause,
But that's not the case or the truth

Truth is her beauty is finely balanced, To some she's ugly
She's not sweet tasting, but rather, strong and passionate

Words tempt my tongue, as hers are often crude and unnecessarily pointed
Her look, somewhat disguised, is not soft or subtle,
Her gait lacks elegance and fluidity

Her ideals, still orientating, while her desires begin to de-fuzz,
Her intellect steady, growing, but rusty in its current environment
Experience limited, yet pursuit of it growls, signifying a growing hunger

So womanly, so weak, so strong, such foolish bravery,
So much wrong, so little right,
Such an attraction I have never felt,
Such beauty I have never known