If I were a painter,
I'd paint you and me.
On a wispy, pure, snow-white cloud,
Away from reality.
If I were a singer,
I'd sing you a song.
The fast beat never ending,
Notes blending, soft and long.
If I were a writer
I'd pour my emotions into a poem,
Compare you to a summers day,
The world would know my love for him.
But I'm no one in particular,
So what do I do?
Bottle it up, learn to live with the lust,
I can never be with you.
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