Isn't she Loavely?

I loave that I’m young,
Yet I cannot redeem this,
A love for a simpler
More melodic time

I’m not a tailor,
You’re not a seamstress,
In that respect, we’re the same;
but differences aside

The first time I saw you,
Guess that I foresaw this
We’ll live in thesaurus
And give out our rhymes

When you do the stupid,
I’ll run like cupid
With my arrows to the hills
And a new bow by my side