Dear Miss Perfect,
You amaze me;
From the radiance you project,
To artistry of you we all see.
One is blessed to have you close,
To stroll in the park,
Or to embrace nose-to-nose;
Either way, laced with songs of the lark.
If only things were not so grim,
Thinking of moments that once were,
For I will never be him,
And you, never her.
It is melancholic to love with these sutures,
While having the past steal our futures.
The one who cares dearly.