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You're one of the cutest things, that I've ever really seen, you know.
But alas, *gasp*, you're in love with somebody else, oh no.
He's cooler, he's smarter, he's funnier than me.
I'm a twig (maybe a branch), but he's a whole tree.
But I love you more. . . don't I?
Ok, maybe I don't.
But I'll still love you, even if he won't.
I wanted to be special for you, but with him there, I cannot.
The pain is getting unbearable. (It feels like I've been shot.)
I'm crazy, I'm weird. (I know that.)
I don't deserve to be your friend.
Once again, it's over. Finito. Finished.
Profound dreams have gone away.
Once I was happy, but not today.
The girl I love, doesn't love me back.
(But nobody seems to care about that.)
Love is all around, it's plain to see.
'There is someone for everyone', but not for me.
I sit here alone, tears flowing free.
(Oh, how I wish things were how they could be.)
I'm meant to be alone, I'm aware of that.
I'm sick of all the kisses, the hugs and the pats.
I've written too many poems about being alone,
And too many poems about love, quick and full-blown.
This one isn't any different, my heart is still broken.
The words 'I love you' have been whispered, and spoken.
Yet I still get nothing from you. (Am I a ghost?)
Don't you realise you're the one that matters most?
Well that's it, I'm ending it, it looks like I've blown it.
If you really loved me. . .
. . . You could've at least shown it.
It seemed simple enough; just wait for a bit.
Catch a bus, see a film, have some fun, that was it.
Cut to a few hours later, there we are.
This is turning out better than our last escapade, by far.
The movie is fine. (I'd seen it before.)
Our drinks are next to us. (Our popcorn is on the floor.)
My head is on your shoulder, half-affection and half-rest.
This is going too well, is this some kind of a test?
I feel your head move, after resting on top of mine.
You're so damn cute, will you be my Valentine?
I move closer towards your lips, we start to kiss. . .
And, well, we're the only ones who know what happens after this.
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