Maybe it's weird to create this poem,
because it pains me to think more, of things, of people, of you.
And the more I bleed of wishing you in dashing silver chrome,
makes me confuse on how your glimmer caught my eyes that had a sudden loss of hue

Maybe it's weird to create this poem,
I couldn't think of anything, since everything about you is unseen.
Just second of that deep baritone would melt thy soul and thy mind would roam.
It would swim for answers. And it would kill for barriers. It would be mean.

Maybe it's weird to create this poem.
My little descriptions about you is blur and vivid, I'm fuming.
Hell would scorch, and so do I. Hungry, mad, I would eat loam.
Two little orbs of you would solve all the problems, my flowers couldn't stop blooming.

Maybe it's weird to create this poem.
Such arms I want to want to hold, caress- posses. Just say the cue.
So badly. Badly! Lay and indulge with me in this foam.
Such poem is thirsty, greedy, wanting, curious. It'll describe me a few.

Maybe it's weird to create this poem,
I am a breathless thug. I was all about you.