I wanted to write you a poem, I wanted to write you a song, I tried to do both but they came out wrong.

I'm keeping it simple, telling you what I've know, that when I look at you I feel as if I've flown.

My thoughts find you on a daily basis; freezing me to the spot breaking my train of thought.

Though frozen for a moment your smile warms me gently, my knees become jelly, as I see what can only be what the religious call heaven.

I see you alone and beg my legs to move to you, but the gears rust and I stand staring feeling foolish.

When I manage to utter a sound to you, you're always kind, that smile beaming back at me, and I feel a smile growing on my face as well.

I keep wishing you knew, but then the idea of this poem ending terrifies me; I'm at your whim. A feather on the breeze.

What else can I say? At this point you must know, but for good measure,

I like you,

And so I wrote you a poem.