And so, I stopped searching
for the right rhyme
for the perfect reason—
because what I feel
doesn’t come in neat lines.

Rhyme and reason belong to poets,
I only belong to the feeling.
You ask me why I write?
Because, not writing would mean
not feeling you anymore.

There’s no rhyme in waiting,
no reason in hoping—
yet I still do both.
Maybe that’s what love is—
something that refuses to fit into rhyme or reason.

You look for logic,
but I live in longing.
You measure words,
I just bleed them.
And when I speak,
you hear the lack of structure—
but miss the presence of soul.

One day, maybe,
you'll read not what I write
but why I wrote.
One day you'll see
not everything beautiful
has rhyme and reason.

And if you never do—
that’s alright too.
I’ll keep writing
not for closure,
not for answers,
but because loving you
is my only rhyme,
and you…
you are the only reason.


                                                                    AL