This is a poem
It has rhymes
They’re in the wrong places

It’s a very pretentious poem
it
jumps
ar

o

u

n

d

and is very confusing to read.


This is a poem.

It talks about your beauty and the light of the moon and how you’re made of everything wonderful.
It isn’t about you.
It never will be.

This is the closing stanza
It has a turnabout of some kind
There is an allusion to nature
as being awesome
and made of win.

Angels love this kind of thing.