Today, I decided to write you a letter, though I know not who you are.
Yet, I believe that you are out there, and believe that you are not very far.
It is strange because I don't know your face, nor the sound of your voice,
but I know this, you're morally just, faithful in all of life's choice.
You understand love, like the one expressed and carved on that fateful tree,
And you love your mother, your father, your siblings, and I love you, and you, me.
You're not like the others, something in you is fascinating and sets you apart,
You're the diamond in the otherwise ordinary, the common, the usual, the dark.
But alas, I always remind you that you're not flawless in complexion,
Yet, I find that you are beautifully perfect, even in your imperfections.
So I write this little note for you today, that I hope one day you'll get,
To the one woman who I prize far more than the others, but have not yet met.
(...or have I?)
