Her

I see her sitting over there

with long blonde and wavy hair.

Do I approach her?

I’m not really sure.

She’s too intimidating for me

She is as beautiful as can be.

Her eyes are like a sunset.

Nobody’s like her I bet;

she’s the Cinderella of my time

To not approach her would be a crime.

When I look at her with a glance,

I know that I don’t stand a chance

Every time I’m able to see

her beauty will always blind me.

I really should approach her,

but I’m still not sure.

My stomach flips up and down.

She will think I’m just a clown.

If I try to talk to her,

my words will become a slur;

my knees will shake

What does it take

to talk to her with ease

without the shaking knees?

I could read her mind and find out,

but women’s minds are complex, no doubt.

Maybe next time I can try

to really talk to her (sigh).

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