Sweetheart, don't you realize
that you are a rare white rose
in a field of wildflowers,
spread throughout the meadows.
They may pick the wildflowers,
Because they are right before their eyes,
Not even realizing,
That they are vipers in disguise.
But there will come a day,
Where someone will notice you,
While not even taking notice,
All the wildflowers they walked through.
They will see nothing but you,
Your beauty and rareness,
To bask in your pure glory,
And all of your fairness.
