Isn’t it strange how I make you dinner
Then we sit and eat
Talking about random things
You take me home
While we hold hands,
Sitting in comfortable silence
As the music blast on the stereo
Watching how the ray of light,
Brightens the streets
while you play with my hand,
As we talk about whatever catches our eyes,
And the stereo plays the perfect song at the perfect time
Isn’t it strange?
The timing isn’t right
But we have a place in each other heart
Yet it still doesn’t feel right
©️2021 Anita Johnson
For every man shall bear his own burden.
Galatians:6:5
Don’t be a pessimist be an optimist
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