To say it is simple,
              Meaning it is rare.
              So I am in awe of any,
              Who can place themselves in others hands.

              Saying those short words,
              However often heard,
              And knowing you mean each.
              Overcoming problems.
              Being right for each other.
              Commitment.

              Do friends make lovers,
              Or the unknown freshness,
              Of two who meet by chance?
              I am able to wear my heart on my sleeve,
              And most often I do.
              But when you cannot read your heart,
              Should you show others it?
              If it lay dormant,
              Would it ever come back?

              I am too young to know if love grows,
              If love needs a certain environment.
              Or simply if in an instant,
              That heart on my sleeve will be pierced,
              Putting itself above everything.
              Even so,
              I am in awe of any who say,
              "I Love You"