Simple

She's simple She loves the smell of freshly cut grass and the smell of rain She loves the way a person's eyes light up when they talk about love She likes simple hellos, but hates when there's no response She's a fan of shy smiles She's a mystery She can eat vanilla ice cream all day, but wont go near a drop of chocolate She wont touch a cigarette, but loves the smell of nicotine She's the girl who will buy hundreds of light bulbs because they're like the thousands of thoughts and ideas running through her head She would rather check out old books because they have history She feels that fire is not warmth, but life That the flames are little dancers She's lovely She eats a raisin bagel every morning because her brother toasts them best She loves written letters because there's truth behind every word She owns a wooden table because the tree that made it was 138 years old And again, she's simple She's the girl that would rather have an old, broken piano just so she could hear herself play notes that were, for once, out of tune And sit for hours staring at the damaged ivory and worn out wood She loves the morning dew sleeping on the grass and the autumn leaves falling from the trees, protecting the sky In all her beauty In all her ways... She is simple