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![Image for the poem The book with one question](/images/uploads/poemimages/90215.jpg?)
The book with one question
Your smile, warm and tender,
Your eyes, loving and kind.
A beauty, in all your splendour,
Brightening up my mind.
But still, words can’t describe,
The heart you hold inside.
I tried to explain it before,
But my poem was endless once more.
To explain what I feel about you,
I wrote trough many nights and days.
I wrote down every word I knew,
Every single one creating another phrase.
It became a book, with a shine so bright,
Full of the poems, that never said it right.
But if you read this verse warm and fine,
You can only hear one question,
Would you be my valentine?
Your eyes, loving and kind.
A beauty, in all your splendour,
Brightening up my mind.
But still, words can’t describe,
The heart you hold inside.
I tried to explain it before,
But my poem was endless once more.
To explain what I feel about you,
I wrote trough many nights and days.
I wrote down every word I knew,
Every single one creating another phrase.
It became a book, with a shine so bright,
Full of the poems, that never said it right.
But if you read this verse warm and fine,
You can only hear one question,
Would you be my valentine?
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