I am no Shakespeare, I am no Coverdale,

but I promise you, this poem will not fail.

It will not go far, not even to your eyes.

But, it will confess my feelings.

I do not love you, not yet.

Don’t let me fall in love.

But, if I do, catch me in a net

and send me back to sea,

For I refuse to drink Aphrodite’s poison.

Your goofy hair, your awkward smile, the way you talk, how you walk

have won me over.

But your confectionery presence is

poison to me.

No amount of roses nor letters

could make believe that love ever lasts.