--- Note before you read: I found this poem I wrote three years ago in fourth grade, so it's not the greatest thing in the world but I was only eight then.(Ugh first love that year...) ---
Little Thing Called Love
It is my life to shape and change,
Not yours to do what you please.
So do just stop there, Mister Sir
And not walk all over me.
You're not my mother or my dad,
You're just another boy,
Like one with fake promises
Of happiness and joy.
I know you like me and that is sweet,
But I'm really not intrigued
By your looks, your grades and sports
You speak of so highly.
Me, I'm not a crazy girl
Who doesn't have a brain.
I tend to think before I act,
Especially in this game.
The game we play is called "love",
And it's very complicated!
"I don't think it has to be, though,"
Is what I've always stated.
If you stop and give up now,
And lose this match with me,
It's OK, you're not my type
They're plenty of fish in the sea...
Why would you even fall for
Somebody like myself?
I'm not the prettiest girl around
Or most popular on the shelf.
'Cause you are very handsome,
All the girls swarm to you,
With a winning smile and chocolate hair,
And beautiful eyes of blue.
You remind me of sweet times
Like someone from above.
Oh, what am I saying? What am I doing?
I think I've fallen in love.
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