Hopeless Young Romantic

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  • Passion

    Hopeless Young Romantic

    When I look into your eyes, what do you think I see,
    an abusive childhood, or a childhood lived happily?
    I see a hopeless young romantic, dying to get outside,
    I have a romantic too, and he's tried and tried,
    trying to break through for all the world to know,
    I get this sudden fear, even though it doesn't show.
    I hold back the romantic, to protect it from pain,
    but I can't do it much longer, it's driving me insane.
    Waiting for the right girl, to have and love for all of time,
    I know she exists somewhere, maybe in a nursery rhyme,
    or maybe across town, or right across the street,
    my hopeless young romantic is just dying to meet
    her on the street, or somewhere in a bar,
    I wonder where she is, somewhere near or far.
    I constantly look for her, but she has not been found,
    I know when I will see her, my heart will start to pound.
    I will go weak in the knees, the room will start to spin,
    my hopeless young romantic will burst out right there and then.
    I will sweep her off her feet, take her far, far away,
    I'm not sure where we'll go, it doesn't matter anyway.
    I have looked for many years, and many have been close,
    but none had that adrenaline rush, like an acid overdose.
    So onward I will go, looking for that special girl,
    not stopping ever until the end of the world.
    I will spend all eternity with her, treat her like a queen,
    never raise a fist at her, or be in any way mean.
    She will be my goddess until the end of time,
    and then, and only then, will I end this rhyme.
    'Til then I'll keep searching, on the ground and in the sky,
    ever looking for her, until the day I die.

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    Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

    Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

    TheLyricalOne’s Poems (17)

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    Hopeless Young Romantic 0