cadence makes its call
and I stand empty handed
with nothing at all
I shoot from the hip
but the aim is slightly off
and the target means nothing
nothing at all
I write the music
and you write the song
we sing it together
though we are alone
I hear the lyrics
and you feel the dance
when winter has ended
and we took a chance
we kiss and we part
and time passes quick
months have a way
of lighting a wick
the pleasures were ours
and we sing one last tune
but it is never quite over
for me and for you
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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