I'm either in love with the wild ones,
the ones who hide their fear with
humour;

Or the quiet ones, beautiful in a slow,
flowing way that catches the eye like dew
on a leaf in the early morning

I'm praying I'm lovely like you so maybe
one day I'll catch your gaze in that same way,
since too many times have I given up and walked away
when maybe, just one, it'll figure itself out