Why do I try to woo you?
I am nothing in your esteem;
I am too kind to be a candidate
Too nice to be your dream

Too open to be your equal
Too loyal to be your mate
Too gentle to be considered
So earnest I earn your hate

Too blind to your imperfections
So content I cause distress
Too patient with all your drama
Too smitten to dare confess

I know you are trying to hurt me
That this will end in my death
So I praise you in the height of folly
Wishing each were my last breath