There is a young chap at a place of work
Baby face with a stubbled chin
It is as if a man's face
has trapped a happy kid within.
The young fellow loves a cute young girl
Dainty, delicate, pretty like a rose
She doesn't speak to the baby-faced chap
does not let him come up close.
There is another girl sitting far away
her poetic eyes a mystery urn
She wonders what babyface likes
and how can she make his head turn
A bit further, is a lanky young chap
His eyes dancing, a smiling face
He loves the girl with the poetic eyes
His twinkling eyes, hiding his craze
Up in the skies, the angel sighs
Tired of these cross-wired flings
Droopy fingers and drowsy eyes
Slowly untangle the messed up strings.
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