My heart is imperfect
Full of holes and arms
That stretch out to others
In hopes of bonds
No two holes the same
No souls shaped alike
And only the right ones
May fill each hole right.
Relationships we build
Form the fabric of life
Loneliness in any form
Cuts sharp like the knife
To love is to know
To know is to hold
I will cherish those loved
Till all has grown old.