it took him days to realize that he was in love.

but it took her years to gain the self love she lost.

I heard a song once long ago,
From some golden age--
It set my soul to simmer softly
Like an incensed leaf of sage.

Its melody was dark and sweet
With notes of olden sorrow;
The piano cried a hollow song
And took my woes to borrow.

Songs like this—
They’re more about what we feel
Than what the mind can glean.

In the end,
It’s loneliness that makes us find
Company—
Not our reveries.

There's this little thing who was born in the sewer
Her name, they all say, is Society
Pretends she's all that, but she's really nothing newer
They say she never once spoke the truth.

Society likes to pick in the brains of young girls
Likes to meanly whisper in their ears,
"You're fat, you're worthless, you're the ugliest there is!"
What good does that do? It brings them to tears.

Society likes to mess with the minds of young boys
Likes to torment them by teasing,
"You're skinny, you cry, you aren't manly enough!"
Society makes sure it sure isn't pleasing.

Society likes to mess with the minds of in-betweens or not-at-alls
Likes to belittle, judge, and taunt
"Why can't you be normal? No one likes you!"
It goes on and on. Society likes to daunt.

Society herself doesn't have a care in the world
She never thought once about anyone's feelings
All day she picks at everyone she can find
All night she waits for them to wake, on their ceilings.

I was a nomad,
Searching for better pastures,
From one tender heart to another,
At last I found the oasis,
In my lover's heart,
I was home.

When I look up at the sky
My fears starts crumbling
Tears starts falling
I remember You
I hear You saying,
"Look up child,
I am here with you."

She stands dancing
While he writes in poem
Giving him rhythm
To follow along
This they do daily
From daylight to dawn
As rhythm and writing
Continues to flow

Like a conductor
The head of his pen
He needs her as much
As she needs him
Bringing to question
The answers they have within
Rhythm and writing
All on a whim

She watches his thinking
Her watches her sway
From the very beginning
From the very first day
Both of them have taken
Only to give away
Rhythm and writing
In the music that they make