Off Beat

Your lens is out of focus,
and your song is out of tune.
Your beat in never quite in step;
Your winter starts in June.

Your orange shirt and purple pants.
Just neve match your socks.
They say your are the circle,
that will never fits the box.


You disco dance to Mozart.
Hang your wash in the rain;
Yet though they often hurt ,
your pride.
You never feel the pain.

Your taste, they say, is so bizarre.
Cartoons can make you cry,
you say goodnight to all your plants.
And wait for a reply.

But what they cannot see in you,
I find I love the best,
the things that make you special is,
your differnet from the rest.

Your heart the size of Kansas.
And you always find the time.
To see that all my puzzles fit.
And make my poems all rhyme.

I'll comb your windblown locks.
And be there to brace your fall.
I'll stay your friend forever,
because you're perfect after all.