When She Comes

I am young, with restless fire,
A heart that hums with soft desire.
Not for games or passing thrills,
But for the one who quiets chills.

I walk through nights with open eyes,
Beneath the stars, beneath the skies.
Watching, waiting, soul in bloom,
For her to step into the room.

Not just beauty, though I dream
Of eyes that hold a secret gleam—
But grace, and laughter rich and free,
A voice that sings in sync with me.

I’ve seen the echoes, danced with ghosts,
Loved too fast and lost the most.
But I believe—no need to chase,
She’ll find me in the perfect place.

I’ll know her not by just her face,
But by the calm she brings to space.
A presence warm, a touch sincere,
The kind that pulls your future near.

She’ll ask for truth, not clever lines,
She’ll match the rhythm in my signs.
And when she speaks, the world will dim—
The noise will fade, the light will swim.

I’ll give her all, without a fight—
My morning thoughts, my dreams at night.
And in her eyes, I’ll finally see
The love I saved was meant to be.

So I wait—not lost, but sure—
That love that’s real will still endure.
And when she comes, I will not run—
For I’ll have known she was the one.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.