One of the life's simplest pleasure is witnessing someone smile at you for the first time. This is how it starts, isn't it?
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The first boy she ever loved told her she had sad eyes but changed his mind quickly. Instead, he called her eyes pretty.
She didn't know how to disagree:
take it back ’cause see—
she was sad, she needed someone to not call her reasons pretty.
She didn't need the praise,
he thought she required.
She needed company as she learned to speak her mind.
Her sad eyes learned first
to say what she couldn't.
Isn't it sad that he couldn't stay long enough to hear it?
