Infatuation

This poem I started a while back and just got around to finishing it. It turned out pretty good, probably not my best poem though.

“Where art thou?”, I heard her say.
It’s been the same throughout the day.
She lives in a world so carefree.
My niece thinks she’s in love with me.
—
Push her away and she’ll get riled.
She says, “Don’t treat me like a child”.
I tell myself in frustration,
that it’s just infatuation.
—
I know it’s something she’ll outgrow.
Until then, I’ll just go with the flow.
She’s so pretty, in the prime of youth.
It’s kind of nice, to tell the truth.
—
Really, I don’t want to be mean.
But, you see, she’s only seventeen.
So, I must be good without fail.
Or I might get my ass thrown in jail.