Warm Tea

I tell you what, it feels good to randomly get the urge to write stuff based off one thing that pops into your head the night before...

My iced tea is warm again,

I've been told I hold on to things for too long.

I have the rhythm of a symphony,

But, I could never write a song.

I believe I can control an entire army fleet,

Though the troops would think I'm too headstrong.

I go from place to place and home to home,

In hopes of finally being able to belong.

Then I met you, the most beautiful girl I have seen on this Earth,

I have been called many things, but never was called I wrong.