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How Beautiful You Are
Pardon me if you kind of find me a little flirtatious at the end of what I'm about to say.
I want to tell you how beautiful you *is, but not how beautiful you *looks.
How you look is a given, even the blinds can see it.
I know you might be wondering, "How can the blinds see me?"
Well the blinds can see you;
because *I used to be blind.
Like Beethoven's Second Symphony your beauty has no standard; it's simply out of the ordinary.
I sometimes beat myself in the head for not admitting and thank you for illuminating my day with your sweet "hellos" and "conversations".
And again I apologize if I make you feel uncomfortable.
You are beautiful and I wanted you to know.
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Love is our mind playings tricks on us; although I know how to avoid being played I always end up being a victim. Yes, I am weak.