I would love to write a poem on Nature,
My Romanticist tendencies ache
To ponder, in verse, the meaning of life
As reflected on the face of a lake.

I would love to write a poem on History,
An epic that sprawls every age,
Which narrates the tales of the heroes of old
And the magnificent wars they would wage.

I would love to write a poem on Religion,
And debate the existence of Heaven,
Expound on the seraphs and the names of the stars,
And the numerical meaning of "seven".

I would love to write a poem on Anything;
Any one of the former would do.
But, for some reason, I'm unable to write
About anything other than you.