My glimpse at you scatters tingles of hope in me.
That once more, I can redeem myself as a better nurturer to thee.
That I will study literary miscellanea, even leisure reads, to qualify for my stead.

That I will repent with every mark missed.
That I will seek counsel in every draw.
That I will be authentic and candid in thy presence.
I will hand thee autonomy thou require.
That I will cool thy hype and rejuvenate thy frail heart.

I fear thou might fancy worldly wisdom than mine.
Would the word ‘tranquil’ outdo the rest? 
Why won’t thou be one to hand the script of how to win thy honest heart?
I beg of thee, Competition. Be of my acquaintanceship.

What of others?
‘least, I prepare to nurture thy soul.
Will you receive these words and retire to my nest for once?