you stole my heart with music
playing in the background
while you danced around
flicking paint upon the canvas
as I sat and ate my breakfast
on a warm morning in July
your artwork always made me cry
a beauty I had never seen
while you worked in faded jeans
then one day you were gone
no paint, nor sun, nor growing song
I wondered if I had always been wrong
or if you had ever been
so I picked up pen and paper
and I began to write a caper
where a thief with rugged charm
and a smile that would disarm
robbed every single gallery
from San Diego to D.C.
and left a little rose
which is how I learned my prose
but soon the wonder faded
as I grew way past jaded
but I swear when you return
my ink will lose its angry burn
and I'll paint you a bouquet
and hope this time you'll stay
my heart won't lose its nerve
from my mission, I won't swerve
I'll write a symphony with my words
...the kind that you deserve
This is a piece dedicated to the ones that got away. I'm sure that we have all had that person that we spent so much time with. Every day our love for them grew and grew without us even recognizing it at first. Finally, when it hits, it's usually too late or we say the wrong thing and ruin it. So cheers! To the ones that got away!
