Distracted

That beautiful distraction, Across the room yonder. She lures my attention, And my mind beings to wander.

She doesn't know, Or maybe she does, With her eyes like a doe, I'm just a boy with gloves.

When we talk, My words fail me. They're dry like chalk, Not quite right-y.

But I'll try, In this instance. But it's rather dry, And does her no justice.