Souvenir - Color Theory

It sometimes seems

My dreamer’s dreams

Are downright laughable

I shrug my shoulders to the world

Questioning my every syllable

You always understand

And take my hand so naturally

When I don’t trust myself

Still you believe in me

When every faith

Has been replaced by objectivity

By my own hands

My best laid plans

Amount to nothing more than vanity

You lift me off the ground

And turn around the tragedy

When I cry at your feet

Still you believe in me

This is a souvenir

Of a time-honored pact

Acknowledgment of

Every self-denying act

A memento of what it means to be

Two as one

I always will believe in you

And you’ll believe in me