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I'm a hopeless romantic.
I will take no disguise.
I admit getting lost
in some make-believe eyes.
I often quote sonnets
to invisible men
and am found in odd places
with my paper and pen.
Schizophrenic some may say.
Schizophrenic I will stay.
"I'm a hopeless romantic,"
I confess with a grin.
Though I know my profession
some may think is a sin.
I enjoy taking long walks
in the springtime at night
and find soft rays of moonlight
an inspiring delight.
Madning lifestyle some perceive.
Life of freedom, I believe.
I'm a hopeless romantic,
with no shame I admit.
For the practical thinker-
I care not a wit.
I prefer life in my world,
through rose-colored glasses
and love loosing myself in
a book as time passes.
Worlds of wonder to behold
Grand reflections spun in gold.
I'm a hopeless romantic,
I confess that it's true.
From all of my choices,
I prefer this world view.
I can separate fiction
and fact for the most part,
but I will always remain
a romantic at heart.
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