Nothin'

Nothin'
© Meesa Caudill


He says he's workin' late tonight,
don't bother waiting up...
walks in the door at 3 am,
smelling like the club.
But smoke and bourbon can't hide the smell
of perfume on his shirt,
Pretending to sleep, holding back tears,
she lets anger replace the hurt.
Next morning as she cooks breakfast
he reads the paper to relax.
He sees the look on her face, guilt eats him away,
"What's wrong?" he start to ask.
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."

But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's fire in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she sees through your lies.
Don't think she's naive when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".

He's still "at work" at midnight
and she knows it'll be hours before he's home.
She's out on the town with her best friends...
it's her turn to roam.
Tall, dark, and handsome is standing by the bar,
and he keeps looking her way...
some flirty conversation and a few drinks later
she decides to play.
She's cozy in bed by the time he gets home,
now the guilt kicks in for her.
Pretending she's asleep, she can't hold back the tears,
and she can't hide the hurt.
He kisses her gently on the cheek
as he climbs into bed.
As she kisses him back he can barely see her face,
wet from the tears she's shed.
He's afraid to hear the painful answer
to what he's known all along
wrapping his arms around her,
again he ask's "What's wrong?"
She just smiles and says,
"Nothin'."

But "Nothin'" means somethin'
when there's guilt in her eyes.
She can smile and say "nothin'"
but she tells her own lies.
Don't think she's innocent when
she hides behind the disguise
of
"nothin'".

That Alabama Boy

From across the bar I see him ordering a drink alone...
'Wonder what he's drinking- is it beer or Patron?'
He glances at me with bright smiling eyes-
dark chocolate brown- youthful, yet wise.
He grins at me with a beautiful smile-
I introduce myself, and we talk for a while.
He's from the south- has an accent to make you melt-
he's never been 'up north', lives below the Bible Belt.
A gentleman, of course- set in his Southern ways...
tells me he's only going to be here working for a few days.
My heart drops a bit because I want to know him more-
his favorite color, favorite song, what does he smile and cry for...
He spoke in a voice so syrupy sweet-
his dimples, eyes, and dark hair made my knees get weak.
He was dressed so casual- loose-fitting jeans and a white tee, 
matched with bright white sneaks- a weakness for me.
His tan skin so bronze, his smile so bright-
he was tall, southern and mysterious- causing lust at first sight.
His laugh was contagious, addictive and real...
'Are these butterflies that I'm starting to feel?'
Everyone there disappeared- no one else existed to me...
'Why am I so drawn to this man when I know we could never be?"
I knew nothing about him yet felt like I'd known him forever-
I was hypnotized by his smile, his laugh... he was witty and clever.
He made me dizzy, my world began to spin that night at the bar.
I didn't need any alcohol- this buzz was better by far!
But I also came to realize that the ones that inspire poetry don't last.
They cause a fleeting passion, a deep infatuation, and then they pass.
None of us understand their reason- why we meet those who start the fires-
maybe it's so that we remember the heat that fuels us with desire.
To prepare us for the next real thing that may be just around the bend-
but no matter what, no matter where- the butterflies must end.
I've learned to hate it when a man inspires me to write...
they always end in poetic tragedy- I always lose my knight.
But that southern boy won't be forgotten- I'm glad I got the chance
to meet him while he was here and to catch his smiling glance.