By: Ridge Ross L. De Veyra
I think, she’s the girl that I like,
For she hit me with cupid’s arrow in just one strike,
She straightforwardly caught my attention,
Without the application of any liberated locomotion.
Her beauty convinced me to make her my crush,
The only girl that would make me blush.
Her braininess induced me to adore her,
To honor the girl who’s picturesque inside out forever and ever.
Whenever she gets rubbed on the wrong way,
I approach her and try to give her a happy day.
Whenever she feels sad,
I kid her to make her feel once again glad.
I hope that she likes me too, mutually,
So that I wouldn’t consider my amity for her a misery.
I hope that she would like me the way I like her,
I hope that we would feel the same way for one another.
Though there’s something inside me that’s saying she’ll only give me blues,
My heart says my choice is righteous, while my mind says it’s erroneous.
There’s something about this scenario that makes me feel everything’s uncertain,
There are some factors of this circumstances that tells me the only prize that I’ll get from this is pain.
Perhaps, I let my heart get the best of me,
Maybe she’s not the girl that would make me happy.
I to her am only a friend,
She only sees me like someone who is only meant to help her in her errand.
Perhaps my mind was really precise,
Perhaps I haven’t been choosing very wise,
There’s a probability that I have adored the wrong mademoiselle,
Feasibly I chose the wrong damsel.
But, what if she’s the right girl?
What if she’s the girl I’m meant to call “My Pearl”?
Love is a realm of possibilities,
But sometimes, it is also a domain of impossibilities.
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