Fly away far from my thoughts evermore
Fly, dove, for you were born to soar
You were meant for art and nothing more

If I should ever try to give chase,
Speed up, lest I see your fair face,
Fine as gold and smooth as lace

You are not for me, nor I for you
Two cruel statements, both all too true
These I must grapple with to start anew

If I should write again of your beautiful ways
It is because you are art and beg for praise
I, just an onlooker; enamored of your grace

Forgive me, for I have thought far too much
Your laugh, your eyes, your entrancing touch
I should be happy I've even seen this much

Forgive me, for I know not what I do

...Though I wish you were mine...