I can't write music,
I don't write lyrics.

My poetry doesn't sound like that.

My pen doesn't print words into chord formations,
which,

Admittedly is frustrating because all I want to do is sing to you

But I cannot use a staff to frame my sentiments

And while I pride myself in the power of my pen,

I still dream of a world that I could tell a few words to whistle your tune

All day I dream of music,

Just a note to give to you.