He's the sun, I am but a dew
A dew falling early morning, falling to the leaves, to the Earth, disappearing without a clue.

He's the moon, I am but the dark side of it.
The side that was not even noticed, not even opened, the side that was not even lit.

He's funny, I'm not.
I'm boring, he's not.
He's her someone, I'm not.
She's my someone, I'm hers? Probably not.