My King

Like a molten plastic I become
To stand straight I forget
Hoping I'm not misdemeanoring
For as a fool I don't want to be described
Feeling all sorts of miscellaneous feelings
All this from the tone of his greeting voice
My eyes drooling to the surface
With a smile as big as a mountain
Mellifluous his voice really is
And like a junkie I long to hear it

Does he even know my name?
For a moment reality almost got the best of me
Out of the blue his smile, white as an angel's cloth
Loomed me back into my fantasy
With his eyes looking deep into mine
Yet in love with him I might be

Suddenly he walked away
With a walk of a King
A king I wish was mine
Mine to hold love and care for
A king I might never have
A king that always makes my day
To long after him I will
And forever in my fantasies he remains my king