Our love it
comes and goes

Rich and poor
I pour my
love into these lines
But our silence
Knows no bounds

Poor and rich
I seek the lines
to describe
the love
I feel inside

Rich and poor
I walk this beach
alone
The days they run together
The shore line is empty
Squall lines long
heading my way
Rich and poor
in these words
I have to say

These rhymes
they sound
so
empty
now

Poor and rich
as we are
you come
into my arms
for these moments
all wealth is
found

Rich and poor
you head
on out
and are
gone.

We are
one but we are
not. You reflect the
image that I project,
yet we are not the
same. We are
pens
that
are limited, and are taught
to perpetuate stories only with blank
papers; stars that are gifted with
ethereal shine, but upon its
acceptance, the clouds
inevitably create
a demarcation.
It screams a rule
that stars may only fall for
wishes, and not to gift their innate
shine to another star. The sun screams
that two ends of polychromatic rainbows
may not meet in order to preserve the treasures.
But I stand before you, a similar image of you. We
are unfathomable depths but with divergent trenches.
Everyday we hear the
sun scream, and I say
do not fear its flare.
For in love we are
free, and in love
we are both
limitless.
We are
free.