He was a boy,
A boy of soft songs,
Little novels,
And a hard and weary heart,
He wrote down his desires in a book,
"Pleasant dreams, quiet hours and sunlight."
And he wanted to be still,
And stare at the stars, write down his thoughts, and maybe one day find a girl,
Who could find his odd and strange habits cute,
And she wanna cuddle with him till daylight,
Read him his books and listen to his soft voice and maybe mend all the brokenness and misery he had suffered,
To be soaked up by infectious laughter and soft skin that he could dry his tears on,
Maybe someone who he could base his dreams on
And love him more then the characters in his book did