For: Viola Grey Poem by Saint Cynosure

I've yet to tell Viola,
exactly how I feel.
I sit here looking stupid,
as if its some big deal.
But I fear her rejection,
cause that would bring me pain.
I may rip myself to shreds,
and never be the same.
It seems she likes to look at me,
and laugh at what I say.
And the hardest thing in all this world,
is when she goes away.
For what if I don't see her,
and never hear her voice.
Never feel her touch again,
as if its not my choice.
I find my self in turmoil,
I'm not sure if I should say.
These feelings Ive inside of me,
for Viola Grey.