Where is he?
Did we cross paths and I just missed him?
Never hugged, never kissed him?
Did I ever see him?
As I get older I wander as I wonder
I hope to God we soon meet
Writing about love without a muse
Is like painting
With no paints
With no ice skates
I am getting my life in order
And I know in my heart
That I am ready
Ready for when the time is right
Ready for that confession of Love
I will confess it to you
I will tell you how I feel
It won’t be in my mind this time
No, this time
It will be real