You tell me love is

only in my head

but I don't believe you

for I can touch it

in the pages of

writers and poets past

and I can see it

in the faces

weathered, old and gray

but smiling

it is the air I breathe

and the song that

keeps me singing

you say that realistically

no one could give

their everything

to those who don't

deserve it

but I think you're wrong