Love is.... (for ida) the poem i'll never compromise

My love is like a four leafed clover.
Search for it, and it seems impossible.
You have to have that kind of blind faith in me, I'll find you.

I know how to love. We could have been lovers.
Loved as lovers do, and you and I, we could have made two,
But Im a ripped up flower and you an angry dove.

And do we really know what love is? It's texture? Flavor?
Can we put it in a test tube, sell it labeled 'savior'?
Can I have it now? Do I get it later? Or no guarantee.

Or is it a nonexistent scripture?
Like Jesus says, 'Love one another.'
Though I hear sex is better.

I know how to love. We could have been lovers.
Loved as lovers do, and you and I, we could have made two,
But youre a homeless waitress and Im a bartender.

Laugh later, cry now and then, with the realization that this was it,
And in the end the mystery that is life leaves you unsatisfied.
I grow tired waiting for the stage mist and audience chatter to fade.

Turn on the lights and sing with the starry eyed!
The rhythm of love is there beating, can you hear it?
Are you amazed? Or do you think, 'I hope it dies.'

Im talking about love in the purest sense of the word,
Like clouds that scatter leaving an infinitely blue sky.
It makes you want to laugh and smile like the children we were.

I know how to love. We could have been lovers.
Loved as lovers do, and you and I, we could have made two,
But Im a bank robber and you a convenient store clerk.

So what if this word means more or less than we know?
Will you continue its overused and abused status by youth?
Or will you hold it until the time comes to let it blossom.

Or is it supposed to be a mystery?
On every vocabulary test leave the definition blank.
It's up to your discretion to interpret its meaning.

Yours are the kisses whispered in the dark.
Or, when Im dancing alone, youre the tap on the shoulder in the rain.
Your part of my hope that all love's not the same.

I know how to love. We could have been lovers.
Loved as lovers do, and you and I, we could have made two,
But too soon I'm leaving here, and so are you.

We could have been lovers but we were seduced.
Drawn in by a word that was chaotically let loose.
We're the never been lovers that live with the truth.