When I was twenty
I wrote Love
When I was twenty-four
I wrote Love and War In Your Twenties
Now I’m twenty-five
Love is truth and truth is poetry
And I learned most people hate poetry
Yet, I think I was made to write
Put my thoughts to ink
Quiver in the dwellings of my muse
My blue eyed vice
Where my wars have signed peace treaties
And love doesn’t seem like brittle bone
To where I hope my forever is
Cast among my dreams for us