It’s 12:57 this Monday nite
Something summoned this Poet to write
In these words I’ll find vision, wisdom, insight
I penned, “This ain’t no poem.  This is about you”
This is no poem this is my reality
Ain’t it funny that this is about me
For I don’t know where you came from . . .
Or what you intend to do . . .
But now I can’t escape . . .
I can’t undo . . . 
The fact that I am blessed by your presence . . . 
I have feelings for you
And now I think about you in everything I do
I pray that divine intervention will guide me through
As if this soon will pass but I want this to last
Sometimes I feel it’s too soon to tell you
Then I fear that if she knew, “She will she play me for a fool.”
At this stage I’ve got all to gain and nothing to lose
So I am compelled to offer these fragmented verses . . .

In hopes that you will think of me soon