Your words were the sweet salve upon my wounds,
and I was the infant your lullabies would soothe.

You make me feel special when I hear your repertoire
like I was the only one hearing your sad, sweet, lie.

When you bestow your beautiful words upon me,
I become a child on Christmas day
or a useless trinket but still on display

I become a satisfied senior- who has had his fun
But little did I know your words were giveaways- presented to everyone.