man of mystery

He sits in waiting While being a scholar He speaks ever so eloquently As I'm holding my breath Dying for him to notice me I watch as he smiles beautifuly As he puffs on miss Mary Jane leaves Living quite dangerously I often dream of knocking on his door of mystery Just so I can possibly get a chance of Being entangled in his web of ecstasy His style of his pulled back hair Strong arms and his Hollywood smile Attracts me even from being away for miles... I lay in waiting... Wanting him to feel my emotions To feed my soul To give give my body for him to hold I'm sure he doesn't see My needs but this attraction is a disease I hope to take him and me If he knows, he won't tell me Which is all fine and dandy We can continue to act flirtatiously But I definitely would love to know The man behind the man of mystery.