The Highway
He is patient he is kind
Has a red temper
But he is mine
Or is he as my mind
Unwinds sipping thoughts
Dripping whine
Why can’t he be Mr Right
And do as I wish when I decide
OK maybe I am the problem
I want to be giving but I’m demanding
Talking to myself now not him
How can I ask what I ask on a whim
I need to feel secure and considered
I hear him say that I am difficult
So why am I could it be
That he finally sees the real me
Yet he seems to wait patiently
Despite the parade of suitors
Green is his esteem
And that is so sexy
He knows how to give me space
And that’s amazing grace
Still I choose me and it’s
My way or the highway
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