I can’t believe it’s been 5 years since I wrote this poem. Here’s hoping someone comes along soon to inspire me like he did.here I am, thinking Wouldn’t it be nice to write a poem? wondering when… if I’ll see him tonight. oh, Big Daddy, your sweet little thing is waiting for you been waiting, no hating. just waiting… not for ‘the one’ but Someone who could grab my heart and say look how we’re the same. Don’t play me, beautiful you can ask me anything, I’ll never lie to you For someone I can believe! pushing me, so very gentle in forging this bond Someone who knows my logic is a front that I’m hiding my inner neurotic as if it’s a crime. But this isn’t a poem, it hardly even rhymes! Is the rhythm only in my imagination? Are we only pretending to dance? And do time and circumstance trump the power of this almost romance the words pour out of my heart only now they rhyme. Big daddy… when did that start?