True Love At Last Poem by Becka Rhodes

Its getting late,
But i don't care,
I love the sound of your voice,
Staying up is my choice,
This love is rare,
And it all started with a class,
Can you imagine that?
You don't treat me as if i was a door mat,
You tell me I'm beautiful everyday,
Somehow that always makes my world ok
I was falling so hard for you,
So fast,
There was no stopping it
I couldn't fight it
You caught me,
Please say you'll never dropp me