I watch the sky for signs and the clouds oblige
with pale formations, cataracts in shadow
that could be anything and remain obscure
I pretend I understand the shapes
and I form lyrics of joyful intents
as though I can force the formations to my will
I push and my hand presses through
and nothing is there but my imagination
but I am not one to stop for lack of evidence
I want to see how love develops
and I am stubborn to a fault with the idea
of magic and romance
I know how things go - the idealistic image
in each head avoiding the true face
The dream of change as though
the one you love is a stand in, a paper doll
held up by cardboard hopes and antidotes
you can switch out and dress up
And love is never enough
until it is ravaged with long days and realism
tainted with a ghetto of bad decisions
held together by a ring or a child or some thing
you can't live without even if you can live without
the person you love
until you stop and take in an honest view
there is that person - and you -
and so many times each of you stayed true
carefully cutting hearts from paper
using child scissors for safety