It’s funny how things work in this mystery we call life.
Like how, if that bus hadn’t been early, that girl might not have survived.
Or like if you’d decided to stay in that night,
You might not have booked that drunken flight.
And that’s kinda what meeting him was like.
I let my tears dry on their own and jumped back onto a poetry site.
So we met, exchanged numbers, had a little in common-and not just poetry.
We spoke for hours: religion, hip-hop, all the way to conspiracies.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, we carry a few differences.
One thing’s true: neither of us believes in coincidences.
Recently, he’s been making me smile more than I had planned.
He’s seriously sweet, kind to his core and a handsomely righteous man.
He thinks I’m sweet, gives me too much credit; he’s far too kind.
And I’m not saying I’m in love, just that he’s different and I kinda like his mysterious mind.
To think our paths never would’ve crossed-we never would have met in this lifetime
If it hadn’t been for a mutual love for Amy Winehouse
And a passion for wordplay and rhyme.