haven't seen it in the movies
never read it in a book
and if you don't believe me
feel free to take a look

isn't plastered on a billboard
high above the boulevard
neither have I seen it
written in the stars

it never once made an appearance
on the channel MTV
or a show with Jacques Cousteau
at the bottom ocean deep

never felt it in the wind
or the chill inside my bones
rolling up a hill
or in a crowd alone

isn't poured out from a bottle
with a *****-top or a cork
though sometimes when it's spoon fed
you can eat it with a fork

what it is I'm trying to find
either will or won't
be the perfect line
on which to end this poem