Love Owes Me One

I promised myself I’d never write a poem about love,
At least until I could understand what love really is,
But here I am, penning down these words about love.

I imagine I’d probably spend the rest of my life in love,
In love with a person, or a song, or a book or myself,
Somehow, love will always be in the picture, or maybe
Love will be the one painting the picture.

It’s funny how everything boils down to your existence,
The absence of you is the presence of deep emptiness,
And the presence of you is so beautiful, words cannot describe,
But when you come over, you don’t stay long enough.

I understand. I understand that circumstances aren’t convenient,
And sometimes I can’t find my keys when you come knocking,
But hey, we could be a beautiful miracle, me and you, together.