I almost believe in love
Call me a Romantic if you will—
if you must
Call me whatever you choose
As if a label matters
romantic or otherwise
I try to believe in love
but never having been there
I can not really be sure
The passions seem possible
melting together in a pure grasp
of divine rapture and ecstasy
yeah, it does seem to be
not entirely impossible
I might be able to love
They say my heart is huge
They say I possess compassion
and deep sensitivity
and a capacity for passion and trust
but I might believe were it not
for the perpetual defeatism—
the losses, the crushing defeats
all the bad luck that strikes—
tears me down to the ground
I almost believe in love
in spite all the disappointment
in spite all the rejection
I almost believe in love
in spite all contrary evidence
I almost believe in love
Almost out of sheer stupidity—
a factor not yet considered
It does warrant consideration
as possible explanation—
I suppose it could be it
I believe I try to believe
because it’s such a desirable thing
and it would be a good fate
I think I’ll probably always
almost believe in love
until it’s finally proven true or false