• She whom I seem to know,
    my heart so willingly I've thrown.

    To her my love is real,
    she may not be truly ready to feel.

    I question these feelings so remote,
    but be assured of this love I will note.

    I will be hers,
    if only she'll be mine,
    her innocent heart so sweet like wine.

    Hurt by a man,
    cast away like words,
    such a cruel way to hurt.

    Perhaps I could mend her,
    make her love again?

    Or could she not be ready,
    to start over with another guy,
    unsure of a love that could be pure?

    I wish her to know,
    that I will love her so.

    She whom I seem to know,
    my heart so willingly I've thrown.