I think you are not perfect,
But reality is not a curse,
You are an artwork sung out pure
An aria sung unrehearsed.
I am not a girl to sing along,
To a tune made on my own,
I am a girl to sit in silence,
I wait till true colours are shown.
I share my heart with a teacher,
Who needs no book to understand.
The heart of me walks side by side
With the true spirit of this man.