Why I suck

No this isn't some self degrading poem to make me feel better about me

It's just a poem about the way I feel and what I see

I can't write you a poem about the way I feel

Because, to be honest, I can't rhyme.

I suck at poetry and frankly, I don't have the time.

I can't figure out how to write about the emotions I have,

How wonderful you are and how you make me smile,

How bright your eyes shine, or how with you I waste no time,

I can't think of how to say the way you make the butterflies come alive

And now I can't think of a word that rhymes with alive...

With you the music always seems to be a bit of jive

Well that was stupid...wait...

How being with you is like a Sunday drive

I can't figure out just how to say the way you smile makes me lively

there's no way i can say it precisely

The way you make me feel safe within your arms

Or how you woo me with your charms.

To be honest I really suck at poetry

And to be honest, I'm in no hurry

I can't wait to see where we go

and the memories we will create

And for some reason you find me bearable.

So I guess that's fine that my poetry is terrible.