They say love conquers all;
I think so because love does not care when one falls.
There is going to be pain and tough times;
Love is not always going to be perfect, and prime.

Love is wanting to sit on a park bench when you're eighty-two,
And wanting to be nowhere but with you.
Love is feeling the butterflies every day,
And sometimes being speechless; unable to find words to say

Love is patient; love is kind.
It can be the only thing on one's mind.
Love does not keep record of wrong or right,
Because all you want to do is hold that person tight

Some people try to force it.
Some aren't open to it.
Love is everywhere;
In the wind, the sea, and the air.

It's a beautiful thing,
When those wedding bells ring.
And even after those bells ring, they want to be with you
On a park bench when you're eighty-two.