I'm not perfect.

I don't always have the words,
I rarely catch the feeling,
I often loose the plot,
I sometimes miss the meaning.

Sometimes I say allot,
Or maybe not enough,
One day I get it right,
The next not even nearly.

In truth I'll always try,
I could even make you smile,
At worse I can make you chuckle,
Or make you lol or rofl,
I hope I never make you cry.

The words are hard to find,
To lift you up on high,
But deep inside my mind,
The words are sitting waiting.

Each day we talk of this and that,
I take a step in closer,
My comfort zone is distant,
But when you are sitting typing,
It seems not so far away.

Before I came across you,
I wrote sad and angry words,
the thought of truthful joy,
Was really quite absurd.

I scribe this for you to never see,
But wish I could just say,
And in the end I know I'll lose,
Because my fear as usual,
Will find it's horrid way.