Wrong Love

There's gotta be a better way,
then fallin love-like, head
tripping over heels,
in love with someone
you absolutely don't know.

Worse yet, you know never
on a crowded street, or special
pot-dream, you will ever meet
them. They don't exist,
except as the counterpart
and filler of yourself.

So it's you against the world,
holding hands with a dream,
kissing the apparition
of a principle. One hell
of a concerto to be stringing
out.