My measure of a man

I wrote this for a dear friend if mine, Kyle. He's been there when my boyfriend ditched me , when my life went to hell.

A man is not measured by how hard his fists hit another mans jaw, at least not in my book . 

Last call doesn't mean a thing to me when I have to carry him home. 
What means the most to me is that phone call saying " baby how was your day" 

Or when his phone rings at the break of dawn and its me sobbing. 

What means the most is when I hear him say " baby its gonna be ok, I'm here" 

What means the most is when he tells me that he loves seeing me happy. When he holds the door for me and waits on me to be the first one to sit down.

Or when I'm having a bad day and he makes me laugh.

That's how I  measure my man.

When he cracks that goofy smile and says " Your pretty" at the most random moment. 

When I know he's gonna have my back no matter.