Why do you make me feel this way?
Why do I smile with each word you say?
Why can't I get you out my head?
Why do I think of you as I lie here in bed?
Why is this happening again?
Why didn't I learn from the pain?
Why do I look forward to this so?
Why am I sad, when you have to go?

Those beautiful eyes were lost in that book
with a perfect smile, and the most beautiful look.

If it's all the same,
I'd like my heart back

What she said was so perfect but she's not you
and so I can't reply with an "I love you too"

I was trying to compare your eyes to the beauty of an eclipse,
but somewhere along the line I was distracted by your lips .
Perfectly formed and beautifully red
The image of them bouncing round my head.
But it's not an image I want to forget
So I'll keep thinking of them for a while yet

What happened to the vocal elegance,
my feelings used to evoke?
Why is it when I open my mouth,
on my words I start to choke?
When did my inspiration,
decide it was dried up?
Why is the only relief,
found at the bottom of a cup?

I know the answer, but it can't be true,
you can't be gone, I...

I liked that you liked my poetry, true.
But I didn't write poems to impress you.
I wrote because of what you made me feel
I wrote so I could remember it was real
I wrote because the emotion was too great
So I still write even though I'm too late
I can't change your mind
not with my words, no matter how kind.
But I still write, because I still must
because I still feel, though all is dust.
I also made you a promise, one I intend to keep
and so this poem you're reading now, is what my heart does weep.