Some would look for love when love is nigh,
Or fill their fantasies with love unreal,
Afraid to love, and thus afraid to feel,
Afraid to be entangled in a lie.
For love is a commitment that might tie
One to a choice one would, perhaps, repeal,
Leading to regrets one would conceal,
Since any time, it's true, one's love could die.
Simpler just to dream instead of be,
Since being is so hard, and dreaming easy,
Allowing one one's choices without choosing.
One cannot choose to love and still be free,
A gift of self that tends to make one queasy,
Not knowing what, by keeping, one is losing.