He makes me so happy that I sing.
So happy that I spin in little cirlces
On my walk home... as though I could take wing.
He makes me so happy that I run.
So happy that I'm seeing the fun in things
In which i have never seen fun before.
So blissfully happy that I dance,
Sliding about the floor in my socks
While doing simple, tedious chores like the dishes... or mopping.
But she was happy too.
She told me while she was with him
That he made her feel squishy inside.
That he made her so happy
Her belly was full of winged bugs
Every single time that she saw him.
And I love her.
She's my very best friend.
Her friendship's a thing I refuse to let end
No matter how happy he makes me!
(but i love him.
and we all know i do.
my thoughts and feelings about him
could ruin us.)
I love him.
She's my very best friend.
Not just MY best friend, but THE best friend,
For she sees through my lies... and forgives me without once being angry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem