Letters to You

He Loves Her

He loves her, but
he doesn't love me.
Oh, how I wish
someone else it could be—
because who else besides me
could love him so well?
He loves her, but
he doesn't love me.

I love him, but
he doesn't know me.
An exchange of greetings,
so fleetingly free—
but over his head
my sentiments pass…
He loves her, but
he doesn't love me.

She knows him, but
what love can there be?
Never have I seen this
girl that he seeks—
so how can I combat
this strong of a foe?
He loves her, but
he doesn't love me.

I love him, but
never will he see
how all he does is
so perfect to me.
The only one he has
eyes for is her—
because he loves her,
but he doesn't love me.

Someday, perhaps,
he will come to love me
when reject him she does,
and down falls he.
Waiting, I'll remain
with arms open wide—
and then, he won't love her.
Instead, he'll love me.

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This sounds like something by Dr. Seuss by I'm done--