Like is Complicated

The title is an obvious parody of "Love is Complicated". The cool thing about this poem is I have no idea who it's about. And that's pretty awesome in my personal opinion.

If you liked me as I like you
Problems would be soon worked through
Flowers randomly at your door
A kiss for every bump, bruise, sore
Even when your hair's a mess
You'd be the one I like the best
I could stare into your eyes
The thought brings on dreamy sighs
And we could go see art together
And make memories that last forever
Perhaps we could take a stand
and volunteer while I hold your hand
Or, perhaps, you'd rather read
together in the library
For anything you want to do,
I would gladly follow you
So why is it that it seems
I like you more than you'll ever like me?