A Sonnet To The Girl In My Math 113 Class

Her skin is softer than a dove's feather,

More grace in her finger than can be measured,

Eyes so deep I could watch them forever,

Voice so enchanting it has to be heard.

In math one-thirteen I sit next to her,

Away from lecture my attention is lured,

Can't help but stare to my side at this treasure,

A Goddess to me... she must think I'm a nerd.

My heart burns for her: I want it so much.

Oh why do I bother? Why do I pine?

What I wouldn't give for a single touch,

But her love, I fear, shall never be mine.

I suppose that this was intended to be,

The girls that I love? They never love me.

- by wyv.
Source: http://everything2.com/e2node/A%2520Sonnet%2520To%2520The%2520Girl%2520In%2520My%2520Math%2520113%2520Class