It seems ages since I laid my eyes upon you
Though it's just been thirty months, or so
Moved by the grace of a hazelnut angel
And the voice of a razor in young winter snow
I would sing a song to your beauty
With my vocal cords torn from cries
I could search the heavens for aeons
For a star that'd match your eyes

I remember your touch so cold with a warmth
And searing with truthful compassion
I felt like a dead man on amphetamine
Lethargic and broken, with fiery passion
I would write a tome to your beauty
With hands having broke from the sighs
I could search the oceans for lifetimes
For the pearls to match your eyes

Then there are the days I forget you, but
the blues, still keep you in mind
I think you might rather forget me, but
Please think of me, if you'd be kind
And I would write a poem to your beauty
It's here, in its broken mystique
I could choose the words to perfection
In my scrapbook of sorrow and teak

Here is my final gift to you
I gave you more than you cared
I like to hope you've forgiven me
But I won't post it, I'm all too scared