what of the poets
who tire of whine
as our village is crippled
with Bukowski and whine
being creative is playful
when there is pride
but it's dreadfully painful
if excitement has died
some legends have packed up
and its too late too rue
lets take pride in this village
we call planet blue

There's a million ways to love a soul.
And I'm done holding back, just so you know.

Because I love so many people in this day to day life.
I can't hold it back, just to be someone's wife.

There's the way I love you.
I want to have our home.
I want to go on adventures.
Never leave you alone.
Make silly faces.
Caress your hair.
Make goofy videos.
Cuddle our pets.
Maybe a baby...
Fancy that.

There's the way I love you.
Always messages a few a times a year.
Happy birthday. Merry Christmas.
How are you my dear?
How is the wife? How are the babies?
I found your letter.
Man, we were crazy.

There's the way I love you.
You taught me so much.
A better way to think.
A better way to touch.
How important it is to value myself.
And how to let go.
That's why I love you so.

And there's the way I love you.
The unapologetic ways.
In which you take my hand
But make everyone the same.
The way you say,
"I just want to see you"
And even though it's temporary,
You make time seem brand new.

There are too many ways to love a person.
How you can be so sure what is real?
Which one is forever?
Which one would should we feel?

But I wouldn't be me, with out all of this painful action.

I want a world that's not afraid to love.