What is it about these sets of blue eyes?
He’s so young on the outside, but is he old inside?
But I’m the one that’s too old, I shouldn’t look.
But he’s got the face that appears as you read a book.
What am I thinking? This attraction makes me howl.
I feel so awful for being this wolf on the prowl.
I am sniffing and seeking the scent of a young little boy.
Damn! What is wrong with me? He probably still plays with his toys.
I used to think the contrast of young and old were not to have flings.
I even believed that the gap in age difference was everything.
But I know how he feels for even I was hunted by the old at fifteen.
He would think I am nuts because here I am, the old one, crushing on a very young teen.
What is it about young blood that attracts us so much?
Is it the longing to be young or are they born too late for us?
If I was ever lucky enough to meet you in person, would we click?
Would you feel the same feeling as my heart? Would it tick?
Who is to say what cupid’s arrows has in mind for our souls.
For all I know, we could be opposites because of age, and my heart for you grows old.
But I don’t think of it that way, for the fantasy and image of you still grows.
And in those fantasies, I imagine you are as open minded as I am. But who knows?
The best and only thing I can do for us is let time go by.
I will watch you grow and admire you from a distance, for my fondness of you may never die.
One day, maybe, I will finally see in person what makes you, you, a unique young seed.
For it's your magical young blood, blooming with blessings, but can be a curse indeed.
~FIREBIRD
2/27/03
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