Teenage love poems

I'd cross not mountains for her,
I'd move them one by one.
I'd walk not burning sands,
Instead I'd seed her lands.
Her world would fill with statues,
And gardens at her feet.
These things I say would happen,
Each time we came to meet.

She makes a man become a man,
Makes him strive for more.
She makes him wish for worthiness,
Remake his very core.
Thus I pay my homage,
Poetic tribute not mere prose.
I give to her this piece of me,
And not some dying rose.