They don’t like the way I look at you (seductively, longingly, thirstily)
Running from the almost inevitable because mom might not approve, but Mona Lisa I love you
I think of you while I watch re-runs of “Kyss Mig” and think to be substitute actors
These dreams I edit from my bio and dare not share in “about me” but the flames ignite as I am tempted everyday to shout it from the top of a mountain.
They’d rather I have gentlemen callers, it is what is expected
but i’d rather be with Mona Lisa… Does loving you make me condemned?
Why is the one thing I love so much feels so wrong and so good, I taste the forbidden fruit and feel compelled to live in this Eden:
If it means I’ll have my Mona Lisa
Dear Diary can you keep a secret? only you can know this, only you will understand the things I am afraid to let mom know
Dear Mona Lisa,
No other woman loves you as much as I do...