He does not sing to me. To air instead
he sweetly hums so soft, caressing ears
with sounds melodious, that others' heads
turn t'ward the lovely music that they hear.

Performing from a range of varied tunes,
through choral, pop, alternative, and jazz
his serenading could make all women swoon.
He flaunts his skill with gusto and pizzazz

pretending what he does is not so great.
He sings to boast, to laugh, to share, to game.
He sings for self, for gain, for love or hate.
He sings to find new ways to say my name.

He sings around, about, always for me
Yet never does he ever sing to me.