Who are we to say
that a love is not to be?
That a love does not belong
and can never be set free?

Who are we to think
that a kind is not our people?
That a kind is far beneath us
and will never be as equal?

Who are we to feel
that a face can look unusual?
That a face must be a canvas
and be painted to be beautiful?

Who are we to judge?
To say love is prohibited?
To think below of others?  
To feel minds can be limited?

©

I fell in it
A handful of times
Those burning embers
Of love and trust
The consuming flames
Of the pleasures of lust
The perpetual game
Of push and shove

I get tired
And burned out
Running from all
Life's broken rules
And after all
I don't care to revisit
Those old blues
But don't get me wrong
I'm still your one
And only fool

Because you know
Once or twice
In the darkest
Part of life
I was so blessed
To have your light!