This is not a love poem,
I don't even know your name.
You might as well be a figment
of my overactive brain.
I don't know where you're going
when I pass you on the stairs.
But I know there isn't any place
I'd rather be than there.
You have great taste in music
Yeah, you're really good at art.
Although I do not know you,
You've stolen all my heart.
And there is only one thing
That I know to be true;
You will never notice me,
the way I notice you.
Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 6:55 PM UTC
This is not a love poem,
I don't even know your name.
You might as well be a figment
of my overactive brain.
I don't know where you're going
when I pass you on the stairs.
But I know there isn't any place
I'd rather be than there.
You have great taste in music
Yeah, you're really good at art.
Although I do not know you,
You've stolen all my heart.
And there is only one thing
That I know to be true;
You will never notice me,
the way I notice you.