As I wait,
for that certain someone.
The one who'll give me fate.
Let my story hit a home-run.
My hands are in the open,
whether it's cold or hot.
It will remain in the open,
for I will never give up.
Many days have passed,
making it today be my last.
Oh please -- give me a sign,
so my future could be confined.
If there is such a thing,
those past love would be meaningless.
Then I'd rather drop now,
and throw this ring.
For you, have always been there,
waiting in despair.
Let our good times,
endowed upon our crimes.
Let our eyes meet again,
Across the world, I'll run.
To meet you, my Ann.
You and I gazing upon our star,
and never wait,
for it is here, the one called fate.
[Still not too sure about this poem, it's a rough draft.]
