One might be quick to peg me as a heedless, young lover
Which perhaps I am
In the sense that
Nothing else in the world would matter to me
In the arms of the one who was my world

Yet, they tell us to slow down
Most will not allow themselves to believe
That two souls as young as we
As lost and broken as we
Could discover the true meaning of this mysterious thing called "love"

It seems quite silly
Almost senseless
That they would deny the younger generation of this feeling
This overwhelming, unavoidable attraction

Because how can you expect to love when you become old and wise
If in your days of youth
You have not practiced?