Who can read the mind of a red-headed girl next door,
or a taxi driver who dropped you off,
or the classmate that you ignore?
Don't assume what you get is what you see
'cause that classmate just lost her mother
and that taxi driver's got a PhD.
I'm tired of fear that weighs us down with wrong assumptions
of broken hearts, a natural function.
So you can see my bra underneath my shirt,
Watch the wind underneath my skirt,
but that ain't the picture, it's just a part.
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart.
Please, see my eyes, don't see what I see.
Touch my tongue, don't know what tastes good to me.
It's the human condition that keeps us apart.
And everybody's got a story that could break your heart.
*Thanks Mo and 'Lisha...this poem really opened my eyes. You'll never know how sorry I am. I love you both very much.