I may be pessimistic,
No optimism comes from me.
But when I look at her.
I see nothing but pure beauty.
I may be a loner.
The hate in my eyes pure.
But the only thing I wish,
To talk, alone, to her.
I may hate cheesy crap,
At romane I throw a fit.
I know inner beauty when I see it.
I may ask for the impossible.
Out of my romantic mind.
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