I think it was,
two years ago since we first met,
you were, small, shy
bow tied at the back of your red head,
I spoke softly, gently as we'd never spoke before,
sexy, in your own little way.
You werent on my mind when i opend the door,
nor on my mind when they counted the score,
we'd just lost together.
But it was the start of all of this,
and i thank you 4 being there, through
all of it.
two years of feelings exploded in colour
now all i want is that girl as my lover.
trouble is i waited 2 long
now im stiing here regreting it, writing a poem
for you.
no longer too shy, or too giggly,
the girl i first met,
but now a matured sculptor,
with her gorgeous red head, still,
so beatuifully evolved i wonder, if your real
may we laugh on still,
through the thick and thin, and
may u continue to prickle my skin,
i hope, one day all this is worth it.
and one may we grow untill finally one day,
your beauty is full, and the butterfly, can fly away