If I could play an instrument,
Every song would be of you.
Your voice would be the tone behind my notes,
Your love behind each of the words I wrote.
This simple set of phrases should not reach your eyes,
But in the chance that it does,
Know that I hear your voice at every sound,
And that your face is in every cloud.
Mesmerized by your laugh,
You aren't my type,
I didn't expect to fall for you,
But these things happen.
I tried to sort you out,
But you're one of those mysteries.
You care more than most,
Easily making you a rare find.
They call it learning to love again,
But I believe we're born with that.
I just needed you to remind me,
How to love again.
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