Each time a garden blooms
We tend to prune too quickly
And every lovely petal falls
What was wanted along by the ones not
Patience is a supposed virtue
But is unnecessary when the feelings are mutal
To meet one of your kind is most unusual
I just may be delusional to wicked schemes
Unawaringly wrapped up in fantastical dreams
Although having been around your character of being
I have some subtle reason to believe
Doubt that which is normally seen
Removed from the picture of reality
Instead placed in front of technicality
Physically attracted to how you mentally challenge me
In such a way you have become my surroundings