In Like

This is a poem for an old friend of mine. I do remember you. I just don't talk to you any more. Sorry about that. It's irrepairable though. Don't ask. This one's for you Melly.

Most people call it Love.
We call it Like.
Go figure.

Everyone else tells me I’m crazy.
Not you.
Perhaps we’re both wrong, together.

Love, Like, it’s pretty much all the same.
Isn’t it?
Well, there are a few differences.

One main difference is that Love is far more special.
Something I think we revere too much to just toss it around.
Far too much to say, and possibly be wrong about.

Dear, I can’t wait for the day
When we finally see each other through God’s eyes.
What a day that will be.

You mean so much to me.
I do enjoy the time we spend together,
And look forward to a lot more time in the future.