The Pantywaist Stalker
Forever now I've watched from afar
As you've gone about your normal day;
Yet as extraordinary as you truly are
My feet are faint-hearted, mired in clay.
The photographs that I furtively take
I tape to an altar made of polished wood;
Each one a reminder that for your sake
I must remain misunderstood.
Hiding in your shadow I overlook
Your shoulder as you look over yours;
I see them quake, you're an open book
Wondering what lies behind closed doors.
Leaving home you check the backseat
Of any car in which you may be riding,
Just in case on some pitch-black street
I decide to come out of hiding.
Dreaming of meeting mysterious men
Baring their souls at your beck and call,
You lie in wait, but much to your chagrin
That is the snare into which you fall.
It won't be I who springs the trap,
For at my best I'm just a coward,
But in some other more bolder lap
You will ultimately be overpowered.
And I will continue on, just as before
Watching you through your window,
Fondling panties taken from your drawer,
Mumbling asexual innuendo.