It is the mystery, the beautiful
The classy
The vintage
The cliché we all complain about
And yet cry for
And criticize
When it can't be found
I don't know what it is
No one really does
No one really likes to
Yet everyone has an answer
A philosophy
A theology
A theory to propose
It is the antique
Of all antiques
Of all traditions
Or else it collects dust
Not meaningful
Not remembered
A foreign poison
It is the most dangerous
The deadly
The powerful
No wonder it's barred
A terror
A threat
Among so many
Yet it cannot be shut out
Don't be fooled
Don't be silly
Darling is the word
That melts
That breaks
Most determined of hearts
If I have not described it
You must not know
You could not guess
What I could speak of
But if I have
But if you do
By now you've felt it too
Or I am just a fool
