Young fools under the stars,
hands entwined and knuckles white,
afraid to let go,
we shouldn't have to worry,
and yet, we do.
The spillage of ink above us, our playground,
the planets our swings, at this moment we aren't lost,
we are found.
Sand cascades down this hourglass of fragility,
as I take my fall from grace, plummeting head-first into a pool of adoration.
With a personality unlike another,
soul aflame with passion and understanding,
mahogany eyes filled with amber embers,
but this fire won't die out.
They can't see the beauty,
wrapped their eyes in cotton wool,
they only see one thing,
Fighting the ignorance, we carry on,
watching films under blankets,
hot chocolate lacing our breath,
we talk of dreams
and adventure to places far beyond their reach,
because at the end of the day love is love
and were just some young fools,
tired of having to run.