What good is a poet, when there are no words to find?
No words to say, how your beauty's refined.
What good are poems, when I can't say how I feel?
Can't tell you the feelings, that I conceal.

Yet today was amazing, I had so much fun.
On this beautiful day, spent with you in the sun.

I feel in love with her in the dark, the grey, the rain,
but now I've a reason to enjoy sunlight again,
the sun never shined, on our happiest days,
alway her beauty, radiated through haze.

But the days spent with you, here in the sun,
are convincing me perhaps, you are the one,
I can't remember, ever smiling so hard,
as when your beauty in the sunlight, caught me of guard.

You and I both know, that words are my thing,
I'm like a warrior, and they're the weapons I bring.
But why then, can I not explain,
this notion I entertain?
How come I can't say, what you mean to me?
It should be a simple, a few words would make you see,
but there are none in my head, just the thought of you,
but you don't know that, and so I'm feeling blue.
I could've told her, with a single line,
but with a thousand poems, I couldn't make you mine.
Perhaps there is no way, to word the way I feel,
perhaps thats how I'll know, that this is really real.

But even if I had the words, I probably couldn't say.
It's not a like girl a like you, could love me anyway.

Starting some poems, that I then quickly scrap,
because though I feel happy, I suspect it's a trap.
So I can't write, not for any muse,
'cause I can't find the words I want to use.
Sorry for staying, and for feeling this way,
sorry for going and not talking today.
I don't understand I'm just so confused,
holding my heart, all tattered and bruised,
what is it I want? What is I need?
Just give some advice that I can heed.
Because silence is brutal, but talking makes me feel,
and I keep reopening wounds that just won't heal

I would.
I'd see her in everything, that I adore
I'd scour the world for the right words and more.
Until this feeling's explained, I'll constantly stress,
Do everything possible, and not a thing less.
Rather than just feel it, I'll make her understand
Leave her something to remember, even when I'm not on hand.
Because what she says isn't always, what she feels,
You can't believe her words, just because it appeals.

And how little you'd do, became apparent in time,
I'd do so much more, and then I'd make it rhyme

A year has passed, and it hasn't changed,
no my favourite part, hasn't been exchanged.
More than any feeling, or touch, or kiss,
it's that look in your eyes, that I really miss.
That look of love, and need and lust,
of happiness, hope, and most of all trust.
I miss that look, that you once gave me,
I miss staring into your eyes, and that being all I see.