I know I shouldn't wish on shooting stars or wishing wells, but I do.

Every opportunity I have, I always wish for one thing.

You.

I wish I was the reason your beautiful lips smiled while your fingers intertwine with mine.
I wish I was able to envelop you in ny arms, get lost in your eyes,
And press my lips gently to yours.

I wish you'd love me the way I love you.
Reckless, true, unconditional.

But you don't.

You are my muse. The inspiration and soul of my art. But to you, I'm an invisible painter.

A painter who continously tortures himself by painting scenarios of you and I together, who is hoping that one day, you would look my way and deem me worthy of your love.

But it can't be.

For you my love are a goddess, beautiful and without flaw, who does not deserve me, a mere mortal.

But I will continue wishing on shooting stars and wishing wells, praying to the heavens that one day, you hear my cry.

"I wish for you my love. I'll always wish for you."