She Used To Be Mine

Last year, Bob Dylan won the Nobel prize. Some people said song lyrics aren’t poetry/literature. 
This is one of my favorite songs from the week. I might start a thread of favorite songs, actually. Music is inspiring or hopeful or sad or relatable or sometimes all of those things. When the music swells and Sara pushes open the door, I choke up just a little. Every time. Maybe I choke up a lot. It’s beautiful.  
Listen to this song and then say again that song lyrics aren’t poetry. You can’t. You won’t.
This is from the play “The Waitress” which is probably fantastic.
 It’s not simple to say
That most days I don’t recognize me
That these shoes and this apron
That place and its patrons
Have taken more than I gave them
It’s not easy to know
I’m not anything like I used be, although it’s true
I was never attention’s sweet center
I still remember that girl
 
She’s imperfect, but she tries
She is good, but she lies
She is hard on herself
She is broken and won’t ask for help
She is messy, but she’s kind
She is lonely most of the time
She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone, but she used to be mine
 
It’s not what I asked for
Sometimes life just slips in through a back door
And carves out a person and makes you believe it’s all true
And now I’ve got you
And you’re not what I asked for
If I’m honest, I know I would give it all back
For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two
For the girl that I knew
 
Who’ll be reckless, just enough
Who’ll get hurt, but who learns how to toughen up
When she’s bruised and gets used by a man who can’t love
And then she’ll get stuck
And be scared of the life that’s inside her
Growing stronger each day ’til it finally reminds her
To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes
That’s been gone, but used to be mine
Used to be mine
 
 
 
She is messy, but she’s kind
She is lonely most of the time
She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone, but she used to be mine

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