A poem about giving in to ones feelings of love.
|He must have felt cupid's bow—
A force of strength, did he not know?
To deny said wings of golden dove
Is to be without said destined love
Blinded by rumors and little black book—
But still when she's near, he can't help but look.
Too proud and polished to admit defeat—
He straightens his silk tie and lifts his nose in deceit.
Away she storms out the ballhall door.
A fog of regret he cannot ignore.
What are these feelings, he's not used to them?
Could it be that she is important to him?
It's not for lacking courage that he didn't give in—
He was not yet aware of this prize he must win.