Listening to every heart
Nay dear friend, she's what she seems,
while living quietly in front of screen
where she may peruse your tender words
that fly at her soft, like birds.
And it's your mind she adores, as is your heart
and she'll not succumb to tearing it apart,
but let it live, for live it must
she'll not part you from that which you trust.
But go, dream, and if you like, scheme
a play, a tribute to what may seem
daunting, but not, for it's all in your mind,
there to be yours, whenever it you shall rewind.