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Description
He isn’t ideal.
Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish if its my imagination or real.
He doesn’t fit the prototype.
It’s not a matter of blonde or brown, wrong or right.
He strays away from popularity.
Fixated on the ground he passes airily.
He doesn’t provoke an overwhelming applause.
Disconnected from the world, yet openly showing his flaws.
He doesn’t, in my presence speak a single word.
Although he’s silent, to me, he’s still heard.
He has eyes as black as coal, like his deep hued hair.
But his darkness isn’t morbid; it’s quite the opposite, fair.
He never gets a second chance.
It’s always just one quick glance.
He never held anyone’s attention for more then a minute or two.
But somehow I can’t take my eyes off of him, and am at a loss as to what to do.
He captures every ideal of beauty, a brooding mixture of torture and mystery.
For the rest of my life, it is only he.

Description
He isn’t ideal.
Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish if its my imagination or real.
He doesn’t fit the prototype.
It’s not a matter of blonde or brown, wrong or right.
He strays away from popularity.
Fixated on the ground he passes airily.
He doesn’t provoke an overwhelming applause.
Disconnected from the world, yet openly showing his flaws.
He doesn’t, in my presence speak a single word.
Although he’s silent, to me, he’s still heard.
He has eyes as black as coal, like his deep hued hair.
But his darkness isn’t morbid; it’s quite the opposite, fair.
He never gets a second chance.
It’s always just one quick glance.
He never held anyone’s attention for more then a minute or two.
But somehow I can’t take my eyes off of him, and am at a loss as to what to do.
He captures every ideal of beauty, a brooding mixture of torture and mystery.
For the rest of my life, it is only he.