The poet not in love
Is the violin never heard
The sunrise never seen
And the water never felt.
The fires never lit
The birds never in flight
The lips never touched
The meaning never found.

The poet not in love is
The journey never taken
The path never walked
The guitar with no strings
And the painter with no canvas.
The parent to no child
The treasure never discovered
The book with no beginning
The story with no reason.

The poet not in love is silent
And what a useless thing to be
As a poet.

When it's time,
let me know.

I'll be there,
whether it's now,
or in 24.

We're all fools in love,
'till we're actually fools.

But life just goes on for me,
and for you too,
despite the way you,
break,
          break,
                     break,
                              my heart.

Like it's yours,
to have and to hold...
because it is yours,
to break and to take,
I'm yours.