I am afraid to take the chance,
on the matter of a form;
I stick with what I know,
though its cadence may be worn.
Bittersweet works best for me,
I know its lonely path;
rue of times forgotten now,
the trouble and the wrath.
Love is best for content,
we all have had our share;
in hope of all things good,
with the one we share.
Sometimes the cup is full,
sometimes the cup is not;
often love turns out to be,
not the thing we sought.
But here's to love and glory,
I hope you've found the prize;
and ride the waves of happiness,
in which such beauty lies.