Her eyes are brown and beautiful, yet empty and sad
I used to talk to her occasionally, and she was glad
That I wasn't just another one trying to get in it
So every now and then we'd stop and talk for a minute
I didn't have a gimmick so the minutes turned to hours
On her birthday, I gave her a poem with flowers
Then I took her out to dinner after her cousin's baby shower
We talked about, power to the people and such
We spent more time together but it was never enough
I never tried to sneak a touch, or even cop a feel
I was too interested, in keeping it real.
Perfectly honest and complete, she would always call me "Carino,