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What Good Means

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What you don't hear when I say only "good" is something that cant really be understood
For one who's words don't easily flow it can be hard to actually know
what I'm thinking and how I feel, what emotions are part of the deal
But 'good' in itself is something worthwhile, most people don't get even a smile

Words like water and words like wine, they're sweet and they sound clever and fine
They comfort like silk, envelope like lace, in a deck of cards they'd be the ace
Yet when syllables slip from a poet's tongue, keep in mind they may be only for fun

But when even a little flattery tumbles from my awkward mind as it fumbles
I promise, I swear, I vow on my life, there's nothing more serious, words sharp as a knife
My simplicity is at times less than persuasive, seemingly at times way too evasive
But when I use it, simply just "good" is more than enough if you just understood
inside my mind and the way it turns, how silvery lines are hard to discern

Monotonous and artless as "good" may imply, it's really a sign of being tongue tied
because the things you do and the things you say, leave me breathless every day
If I was a poet who easily spoke, I still wouldn't be able to pen a beautiful stroke
because what can I say when I cant even breathe, when all I know is you're my every need?

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