Love's Preference

I guess I could choose to love anyone, Yet there's always a preference, a chosen one. Though no one is less, no one is more, Still, we all have someone we're searching for. None of us want to settle for less, Yet in someone's eyes, we are less, I confess. For in our quest for a Mr. or Miss perfect. We blind ourselves to love's true light. So let's all dance with a foolish heart, Embracing the flaws that set us apart. But in the end, perhaps we’ll find, That love is perfect in its imperfect design.