The Magic is you; on your name

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰 𝗶𝘀 𝗬𝗼𝘂; 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗢𝗯𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗡𝗮𝗺𝗲. I'm so wanna be friends with you so bad. I like the way you talk, the way you dance with the music when someone's singing. I like the way you eyes smiles the way you teeth shows and reveals how sweat those smiles are. I afraid to show this words truly are. The subjects of my poem is muse of my own. When the glass break it shattered into pieces, wounding me instead of you. After all I was the one who broke the glass. It's fine that I broke the glass— just not your glasses. It's fine that I bleed— just don't turn my dreams into ashes. But I'll wipe your glasses when your clothes fabric can't. No I don't love you, or hate you, nor like you. But damn you're just so cool when you smile and when you look. Oh God, he's so childish cheerful and happy. I wonder how you made him— cause you made him perfect. Oh Lord you lost and angel and he's here. For my eyes can't get enough, when I look into his eyes and he smile bright like diamonds in the sky. I don't even want him; I don't even like him, but he looks like the lost childhood of mine. My envy and admiration fight for the throne. My mind they alter, I hope don't lost and not be thrown.