They call me a poet, but you are the poetry,
They say my words have magic, yet yours set me free.
They paint skies with colors, but your eyes outshine,
They speak of the moonlight , yet you are divine.
They whisper of roses, but your touch is more true,
They chase after stars, yet I only want you.
They dream of forever, but I know it’s real,
They write about love, yet you’re all that I feel
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