Dawn begins at four a.m for go-getting men who wanna fly.
You set the bar so high that it springs on the far side of the sky.
Women around worship you with kisses floating in the air.
But your cynosure reclines on supremacy in order to attain flair.
You value ethics and discipline with an icing of virtues on top.
I have fallen for a mortal robot who won’t let me laugh till I drop.
I feel like an amateur learning to drive a car that doesn’t start.
Calculus seems facile to extrapolate than an attempt of winning your heart.