Unspoken Words

Thou worriest over me, this I know,
It brings content and my heart fuzzy warmth,
But, my love, thou art too lovely for so,
Thy knows that worriest I'd scorn'th,
But how can I frown on angelic thee?
Your luminous love that I treasure most,
Thy knows not the yearning that flows through me,
The sweet love of thee lets this beggar boast,
I admit, life is dull and ever bleak,
For my soul grows mad without thy love's stamp,
Damn the chance that prohibited us speak,
Still, you are my lady, and I your tramp,
So, 'til next we meet in joyous bliss,
Hold onto me, and take solace in this.

This poem is about: 
Me

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