I find it quite odd,
That I seem to suffer from fraud,
When I meet,
A new girl.

They look at me,
Like I am majesty,
As they,
Follow me around.

But for whatever reason,
They are only ripe in the season,
When am with,
Someone.

So I decline,
Their incline,
Into,
My heart.

Though it makes me smile,
To see you walk over to me from a mile away.
But my heart already,
Has it's place to stay.

So I do not,
Flirt a lot.
I just calmly,
Do my thing.

They can stare,
I don't care,
They should just know,
I'm happily taken.