he has a left handed base,
and I want to hear him play,

but he is in vermont,
for the winters,
but that's alright,
we can have the summers,

but I will be working,
and trying to get my truck I wanted,
and he will be waiting,
daily for me,

he will eventually get tired,
of waiting for me,
to hear him play,
right?

see,
I love him,
even though the last time I was with him,
my friend kicked his sack,

do I know why,
nope,
will he, she, or anyone tell me,
why they hell they were made at him?

nope...
but I love him,
I love his long hair,
and his honest mind,

I love how he doesn't call me pretty,
but still does with his eyes.
I love how he just means what he says,
and says what he means,

I love how he,
says he thinks he loves me,
and how he doesn't get mad when I cry,
I love when he holds me,

I love when he kisses me,
and kisses my neck,
and leaves marks,
to make sure I don't forget where he was,

I love how he doesn't make me **** him,
or **** his ****,
unless I want to,
but,

I hate,
how I won't get to hear his base,
still,
and how I miss him,

It is not fair to
Me that good people die and
That bad people live.

he gives me
reassurance
that there are still
genuinely
good
people left
in this world
of darkness