Driving to pick up my brother from baseball
I pop in the cd you gave me.
I know you don't like country but you suffer through it for me.
Would you listen to this "whining" as you call it
for any other girl in the world? Or am I special?
Each pluck of the guitar echoes through the speakers.
The melodies dance through my head
and crash against your eardrums.
It's moments like these that I do feel special.
I like this. Not many other people attempted their own poem, so you're special that way.
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