There's a girl I'll see tonight; I wish I knew why she captivates me.
She's no model; short and a bit plump, with blemished skin - her shoulders, she says, are horrible.
I don't even know her well; we aren't friends, we just work together.
Her razor wit cuts me, but I feel no pain; I return the favor and she laughs.
She reads while she works; silly stories about people who become animals, and books on clean living.
She's proud of her choice, almost defiant; loyal and strong.
She's my favorite co-worker, and I love her in a way I feel about few others.
The boy with the red ribbons wrapped 'round arms. He inspires me, and I him. He was the first, truly, and I hope he'll be the last.
The girl, so beautiful; there's a part of her that wants me, I think, but she doesn't need me. Sometimes I wish she did.
These are the people that inspire me and give me the hope to carry on. This, I suppose, is why I love them; higher than any other reason, it is the simple joy of knowing them.