She is the poetry I cannot write.
My pencil refuses to touch the paper.
My thoughts begin to wander in fear,
That I may think too deeply,
And become engulfed in her.

She is the poetry I cannot write.
Her description is too sweet for my lips to hold.
She is, without doubt, the perfect imperfection.
As she is designed in ways that can only make her as unique as she.

She is the poetry I cannot write.
I lower my head out of respect,
As I am still not worthy to lay eyes on her.
Till then, I will prepare to be ready, and God will help me.

She is the poetry I cannot write.
I try my best, but my imagination can only do so much.
And now, I sit in patience,
until the day comes that I am inspired.

Copyright © Nadir Keval