I am not very good at alot of things;
I cannot paint you pictures because the beautiful things in my head cannot be translated.
Nor can I sing to you, as my voice has an uncanny habit of falling flat.
I can't play for you as my fingers fumble when my thoughts cross over to how you look, watching me.
But I can brush the knots out of your hair, and work the knots out of your back when your day has become too much to bear.
I am not good at much, but I will be good to you.
- k.p.k
