Page 1, Dude, if I\'m making poems about you, it means I like you! Take the freaking hint!

Self Conceited

The pair of eyes watch you everyday

The eyes don’t process you;

But the mind.

But it’s my eyes that admire.

Self conceited, it seems, that I would only admire your physical shell

I don’t know you, but I want to

Sappy and lovey-dovey it seems, but it’s true

Until I know you, everything in all,

Your outside will be the only thing that matters

Self conceited, I know, but you like me just the same

With all of the self conceit.

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