Love, a reckles…


Love, a reckless word to the unloved
They dream, they yearn, they wait
Yet, with all the cruelties in the world
It eludes them
Like a newly hatched butterfly, it flies away
Always too high, always too swift
Love leaves them damaged
It steals away their dreams, their hopes
To the pessimists, love is a waste of letters
In their conviction, love is non-existent
That what we feel are only mutual feelings towards each other
But to a lover, love is all there is. In the vulnerabiltiy of the word, they find life.

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Posted on June 1, 2013, in Poetic Justice and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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