Poems and crafts ♡✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ pt. 1

She is poetry.

I turn her into poetry because I can't have her any other way.

She's just too good for me, you know it's clear as day.

But she has me trapped in her trance, as the poets would say.

I'm a sinner, she's a saint,

I'm not religious, but for her, I'd pray.

Her beauty's a painting, hanging in my mind,

each stroke of her smile a masterpiece to find,

and oh, the way her eyes sparkle like a starlit night.

And I'm left in awe because she's a mesmerizing sight.

I try to capture her essence in the words that I write,

trying to express the turbulent feelings keeping me up at night,

she's the muse to my madness, the light in my dark,

she's the fire in my soul, the spark,

she's the sun, and I'm just a star, 

burning bright. 

Still, from afar, I worship her from a long, long distance,

in awe of her radiant existence.