You

"You are still the scratched,

Beautiful poetry 

In the rough notebook of my heart.

I give you the body

And the soul,

By giving you the adjectives,

Adverbs, and verbs of love.

You become a noun,

Decorating yourself as

The heroine of my love.

I hold your silence in my heart,

I treasure your smile in my eyes,

I imprison your words in my soul.

Yes,

In response to the demands of time,

I return you as well,

Time again boasts

To smear colors of your life

And I remain alone

With my scratched, beautiful poetry."