Everyone knows me—the guy with the guitar, the voice, the charm. But she doesn’t. She sits in the back, always reading, always quiet, like she’s hiding from the world. And somehow, she’s the only one I can’t stop noticing.
She doesn’t smile when I play. Doesn’t even glance my way.
But every song I write has a little bit of her in it.
She doesn’t know me. Doesn’t even know I exist.
But I see her.i walk towards her
"Hi"
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