Love in years is a measurement.

But the love of mine doesn't know.

How I think of her almost everyday,

And it makes me want to go.

Out of this place, out of their mind,

Because my influence is evil

And I harm only really her.

If it be by accident or purpose, 

I am not sure at all.

And yet I'm not one with argument,

She could tell me to do something and I would follow through with it,

Even if it would kill me trying.

So now I wrote this poem down

To set some stones tumble profound

Into a life that I shoulda outgrew.

If you read this poem my love,

Know that is, in fact, true.

For I wish to hold you by your hand and honestly,

I hope you do to.