Saturday, 30 May 2009


She’s one and seven
And if I was her age
She’d pay me no attention
But I can’t help but be drawn in
To her attraction

Her kicks her frills her body gives me chills her hair that flicks her ever round moonlight moon size eyes pulling me into- im oh man oh no it’s not the way to be for she is seventeen and I should know better than to kiss a teenage dream.

She’s one and seven
But I know she likes me
And I’ve been so lonesome lately
I can’t help but be open
To the attention given.

Playful hits on the head not working but following instead glances across that call for my stare let her know I -but no man that’s not, not no. For she is seventeen and I should know better than to embrace such heavenly grace.

She’s one and seven
So when she called me over
I was naturally hesitant
when she Stepped closer while talking clever
her infectious laugher crept in

The deadpan jokes laughing in delight dancing the night away drinking like a hooligan’s holiday but not caring about what anyone thinks anyway I- no, if i could i-but no. She is seventeen and is yet to learn things aren’t quite what they seem.

She’s one and seven
Though you wouldn’t think it
Her body, many men would kill for
And her personality, I do adore
She’s gaining my affection

When we talk we’re connecting, jokes and light strokes
and though I am her plus three if you looked at us it really wouldn’t be what you’d see and-no stop now. I swear to never touch her. It could never be for she is seventeen and she, she is in love with me.