My heart aches at her absence,
her moving lips fill me with joy.
Geometry and reason can't explain why,
yes I'm blind in love o boy!
Love for her can't grow old,
it rejuvenates with her every smile.
Things and feelings all turn cold,
if she's away, even for a while.
But your idea, I like it well,
just don't force on me to love.
For I've told you how my love is blind,
to your idea, life is beyond and above.
Your idea, whatever it may be,
with no love, needs dissection.
Blindly, how can it be judged,
if deserves cheer or objection!
An idea, no matter how well and good,
has to pass through change of time.
It can indeed grow old and useless.
No! can't love your idea for it may turn to slime!