Love is like a sink
at least thats what i think
at first its nothing
just empty and bare
having no meaning
just sitting there
someone comes along
and with warmth the sink is filled
little does the sink know
the warmth will soon be killed
soon they add the bubbles
they give reflections of the sun
then someone puts in spoons
perhaps to join the fun
but just like in our lives
where theres bubbles
there are knives
and when you think youre better
when youre over all the pain
that someone just decides
to let it all go down the drain
