Even with these, thoughts I think, I want to believe, songs that are sweet, are for the weak, then I see, when our eyes meet, who am I to speak.

Any words, except "I'm yours", these fragile nerves, they don't deserve, even a third, of the reserve, I've come to terms, with my new world.

I've been alone. I've been unkind.
I haven't shown. A softer side.

The things you do, the way you move, your voice that soothes, always in tune, and sometime soon, I will balloon, and pop into, a new point of view.

Those people who, sing it true, they just pursue, what they always knew, and it's a clue, a non subtle queue, that we're both the glue, and I'm stuck to you.

I've been alone. I've been unkind.
I haven't shown. A softer side.

But you alone. Seem to satisfy.
The softer tone. Of my harder mind.

© inconsystent