Boy Troubles

Talking to a boy is an art,
Palms sweaty, pounding heart.
Trying to stay calm with all your might,
To do that it takes a really good fight.
Thoughts racing through your head,
Even when you go to bed.
What to wear,
Even how to fix your hair.
For the next time you see him,
You won't be the one caught up in a whim.
You will be the one to rein,
Oops you tumbled now you have a sprain.
But wait it's not the end,
He helps you up and it's you he tends.
He really likes me,
And now I see,
It's the inside that counts
And the outside that bleeds.