The Trouble With Subtle
Every now and again
When I forget to pretend
That I don't want to be more than just your friend
I can't help but hate
The way that you think
She is the woman of your dreams
Cause normally it's me
Who can't see the forest for the trees
But this time it's you, that's been deaf, dumb, and blind
Missing every cosmic sign
And I've grown weary
Which has forced me to pose this query
Would it be enough to change your mind
If I said this was our place in time
So with nothing but hope
I penned you this note
And if the answer is yes, I'll be at our spot until nine
Yet if you say no
I promise I'll go
However, allowing me to slip through your fingers
Is the worst of all zingers
Please be wiser than he
In Indiana Jones three
And my cup, will runneth over thee
Copyright © Rachel Tate | Year Posted 2015
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