There he is just a face in a hundred,
what is he like to hold i have wondered.
We've touched through a glance,
our bodies brushed by chance.
But there has been no liaison,
though there is plenty of adoration.
Of him i am fond,
for him i do long.
He is so appealing,
thinking of him so pleasing.
Pining,
and admiring,
Dedicated,
and devoted.
Though he'll never know,
because he's a face in a hundred!
Lady x x x |
