I shan’t compare thee to a summer’s day
Nor to a sweet, fair rose, by any name
Thou dost not resemble the buds of May
Oh, the dance of words, I can’t play this game
Yes, Shakespeare, he made it seem so easy
Passionate language his love to define
I can’t describe thee with such fluency
I hope thou knowest I want thee to be mine
I admire every little step thou takest
I want to sing of how much I love thee
I’ve always listened to all thou hath spakest
When I am with thee, my heart flutters free
Oh but how could any ever know of
What is between us, the strength of this love