Styles of Her
She sings, cries and screams, wails or moans,
it just depends what setting she’s on.
She can light up a room with her melodic notes,
some doubt it’s her, they think it’s a hoax.
Crooning the emotions that I cannot express,
they flow through the air and slowly caress
the ears that they pass with unexplainable flow,
forging a sensation that most don’t even know
how to explain, they just let it happen.
The beat she brings gets their feet a tappin’
as she resonates on with her groove,
which is inevitably smooth.
Always shining like a shooting star,
she is my girl. She is my guitar.