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1/31/2014

My love for thee, a glimpse divine,
An angel sent from realms that shine.
My heart ignites, a burning flame,
When first I stood where thou didst came.

I plead for love, a sweet affair,
With such a maiden, pure and fair.
The light that shines from thy sweet smile,
Hath captured me, beguiled my while.

The way thou walkest, the way thou speak'st,
Hath stirred my heart, though I am weak.
Impetuous, yet meek I stand,
In hopes to hold thy tender hand.

A man so lost, yet here I stay,
Longing for thy love each day.
For senseless though I seem to be,
I dream to love and cherish thee.

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The Story Behind This Poem:

This happened back in my high school days.

Many students were caught up in love. We were at that stage, and I was definitely curious about this whole 'love trend.'

We had a strict principal back then—an elderly woman—who taught us English in great detail, using classic poems and stories as examples.

We read poems like 'O Captain! My Captain!', 'On His Blindness,' and some of Edgar Allan Poe's work. Most of them had really fancy language. Our principal was also a devout Christian who believed the King James Bible was the only true version, so she often shared Bible verses that were way more complicated than we wanted. That's how I ended up learning to write with 'thy' and 'thee'.

She also assigned us plenty of book reports, where we read everything from 'S.O.S. Titanic' and 'Huckleberry Finn' to Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice.'

I was caught up in love (or at least the idea of it). Unlike most others—who saw love in a simple way (probably a healthier perspective than mine)—my version of love was more like Elizabeth and Darcy, with all their fancy words. I was ready to see any girl I liked as an angel who needed to be deeply admired and cared for.

Why did I write the poem? I hadn't written anything until I heard that a girl had a crush on me. I thought about it, glanced at her occasionally, and before I knew it, I was head over heels—feeling something that felt deeper than just a crush, probably more than what she felt for me.

So, I wrote the poem on paper, drew a sketch of her, and casually tossed those pages in front of her house like a stalker. I have no idea if she ever saw them.

We were never together, and nothing ever happened between us.

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