More of we

Less of me,

More of we

There is no getting passed compromise

But your eyes

The morning sun envies your eyes

And I sympathize with the sun’s envy

Maybe compromise is somewhere

In Me

Because your eyes

Yes, those lovely eyes

Grow wings on butterflies

Humming birds sing them lullabies

If more of we

Means less of me,

Then less of me will compromise

So more of we can wake up to your eyes