I am a but a simple poet
A mere poet who is madly in love
Who had always aspired to write
The most beautiful poem

And that poem
I envision it to contain
Hundreds of adjectives
Describing beauty
Thousands of metaphors
Expressing desire to kiss soft lips
Millions of words
Of which, every single one
A pellucid manifestation
Of emotions I laboriously subdued
Within the confines of my chest
It shall include rhymes
Mellifluous tunes that pleasures the ears
Plus lines and verses
Embodying the flames of love

Then realization strikes me violently
Such concept will not produce
What is greatly desired
But I, a simple poet
Still has written the most beautiful poem
To ever exist
And it is written like this:



You.