When I met you; my only thoughts we’re ‘Another friend, just what I need’
Yet, what I didn’t know was that you’d be someone I’d be writing a poem about
You, my dear, you are something special that happened to me
Still I ask myself ‘Why do I love you this much?’

When I go to sleep, or when I wake up
The first thing I think about is; you, my dear
When I sit in class, or when I cook my dinner;
The first thing I think about is; you again, my dear

Then you’d ask me, ‘When you think about me,
What exactly is it that you’re thinking?’
Then I rather keep this secret,
Because most of the times is something personal
Something I wish will happen to me once

When the cold, cold winter is near
I’m sitting there all lonely on a wooden bench
Then you'd come to me, my dear, yes
You'd come to me and hold my hand; like you promised you would

But of course, this is one of my dreams
One of the dreams where I forget; You are 9 years older
And you don't care about how much I love you;
'A girl of your age can't seriously love someone like me'

It would be wrong...