Perhaps it’s naïve to think
The way I think sometimes
To imagine myself with you
Forever
Living in some endless summer
Within my imagination that no one
Can alter and nothing can change
I guess that is naïve, isn’t it?
I mean, is it foolish
To think—to know
That I am going to spend
The rest of my life with
You?
Because for some reason
My misshapen and irresolute heart
Seems to think
That one thought is truth
So much so that nothing else
Is quite as honest as it
For some reason my puerile heart
Believes that we will be together
Despite the circumstances that surround us
No matter that we have no money
No matter that you are so far away
That at times
It doesn’t matter how many
People surround me
Because I still feel utterly alone
No matter that I am stuck here
Like a bird with clipped wings
In this deathtrap town
That breaks the very bones that
Hold me up
And crushes the spirit from my chest
With the negativity of its borders
And yet the caged bird still sings
And yet I still hold to that naïve hope
That things will work out
And they will
Because my constant heart
Told me so