Her rosy cheeks were red just like her lips.
Her laughter gave light but her grin was coy.
With dark midnight hair that grew down to her hips,
And eyes set on a handsome dark haired boy.
His wondrous eyes gazed o'er her pale sad face.
His heart was set on an other sweet girl,
A more free soul with elegant grace.
She could not compete with her golden curls.
Pondering all day that he'll take her hand
But leaves her restless and singing the blues.
Hoping one day he'll see and understand
That all those grins and talks were more than clues.
Sitting by the keys when she's feeling down,
She'll belt her voice and produce her own sound.