Dreamers can’t be Schemers,

Sharing Love and deep affection,Makes things easier to bareGiving Life its true connection.

This is my diary,The song of a tremblingBird,Resembling a heart,That just wantsTo be heard.

There would be no scent flowers,If not for April rain.But there are certain questions,That questions do remain,And answers there are none,What made me ever love you,Now more, after you’re gone.

And am lead to believe,That we are a race,Born in infamy,Having intelligence,Capability, heart,Why do we continue,To tear each other, apart?

So magically,With magnetismYou cannot resistThe kind,That only in Love,Can so exist.

The Universe,And know what it is made of.