I heard that a man wrote a song for his love, he poured his heart and his soul into the page and the microphone and he sang for her heart, for her hand and for the future. Now what did he say, let me think... it was amazing it was so beautiful and engaging. He sang about her lips, about her eyes and her fingertips. He sang about his heart, about her hair, about her voice and then I swear he sang about her dancing! How he'd take her dancing around the streets of Paris, Rome and how he'd take her home. He wanted to grow old with her and that's the part I liked the best. The part where their love lasted forever and how their love would grow into their family and the home they built and the plants they grew and this tree he would plant to make sure their love lasted for 100 years. 100 year, or more, imagine that. 100 year or more.
How I'd love a man to sing a song like that, to pour his heart onto the page and the microphone and tell me how he loved me.
They say though that the girl was not impressed, she said he was persistent and annoying. She didn't like the song or him and then she sent him away. He disappeared out of sight, away from all of his friends and family. Just for a while. Just for a thought. Just to see what life would be like without her. And guess what he found? It was okay, okay to write a song about a girl and for it not to be heard, not to be sung. It was okay to love someone and for them not to love you back. It was okay. He was okay.
The Paper Cafe is a virtual cafe and bookshop where you can browse the artwork, buy some notebooks and dip into some conversation. Don't forget to make yourself a cuppa before having a look around!
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