Little (bad written) poems

Your eyes are like the sky

What would you like now?

I’m giving you my soul

my heart, and lungs too

maybe the moon.

What can I do? I do to make you feel nice

So you can call me someday

When will I try? Try to be yours

So I look to the moon and think…

There is nobody in heart

I got a gold ring

for my imaginary friend

‘Cause he’s the moon.