They told me that love would be beautiful
And that love would be kind.
But more and more these days I am surprised to find
That love is painful and love will ache
Love will not give as much as it takes.
I was accepting at first of this fate
But I have decided it will go my way.
I will make love, theoretically, my *****
I will make love as I sew every stitch,
I will draw lines of love one every page
I will love while I can with a furious rage
At the fact that this fate
And the fact that a mate
Should be decided for me
By a predetermined source
By a nonexistent force
According to the "way" that people go by
I refuse to never ask "why"
I refuse to sit like a calm, quiet sea
And love who is expected of me.