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.