When she laughs loud her face becomes a cartoon:
eyes shift to slits, smile stretches ear to ear.
she makes my knees wobbly, like too much beer,
the toon-ish change spreads quick to me, and soon
my jaw drops to the ground, I start to swoon;
my heart bounces whenever she is near.
I try to hide these feelings out of fear
she would see me as a creepy-weird goon.
But those feelings are too easily seen,
when she’s around my secret becomes plain;
I wear a perfect poker face in vain—
but it’s a familiar and cliché scene,
I’m like Pepe Le Pew when she walks by:
my feet float, and pink hearts drift to the sky.