I can't talk to you,
you're a dream misrepresented,
flawless, perfect, in front of me.
My tongue ties, hands shake
as I swerve away as you look up.
If only you could know me,
you'd like me on facebook.
A big thumbs up from the girl of my dreams.
I wouldn't care about the other four,
they're irrelevant, after my attention and nothing else.
You'd be different, not vying for anything,
not competing because you're you,
perfect and fascinating.
I'd make a hashtag out of you
and tweet nice things about you.
Document you for the world to see;
more views than Gangnam Style.

Oh well, nothing comes free.
I can dream and dream all I want
but no action will I take.
I am a coward,
comfortable with myself
and myself