Justice

If I were an artist,
I'd draw your face
On a nice clean
Sheet of paper,
And keep it in my pocket,
So I'd never have to
Forget what your smile looks like.
And for once,
It would actually do you justice.

If I were an author,
I could probably write a novel
Just on how your eyes
Sparkle
When you smile.
And maybe,
Only then,
Would it do them justice.

If I were a lover,
I would love you
And love you
And love you
Until you were so sick of love
That you were lovesick
All the time.
And for once,
The love I would give you,
Would actually do you justice.

If I were a singer,
I'd belt it out
About how you're mine.
I'd write you songs,
And for once,
They might actually do you justice.

If I were a poet,
I'd express my love for you
In words.
And for once,
It would actually do you justice.

But the catch is,
I already am.
So why does nothing I say about you,
Ever do you justice?