The True Meaning Of Love
Love is as fragile as the dew on a flower,
As questioned as a silver rose,
As unique as a best friend,
As fought over as a name for a new child,
As hurtful as a splinter in your forefinger,
As dark and desirable as our passion as man and woman,
As beautiful as the falling rain,
Which may either create a flood or a rainbow,
It is as much a part of us as our soul,
And as solid as our body,
A spiritual, yet real feeling,
Which may flow through us with warmth and happiness,
But may also unleash a numbness over your body,
It is something which we all desire, want, and need,
To be whole spiritually and mentally,
Without it, we would die,
Flowers would no longer bloom,
Children which once danced and sung,
Would no longer sing another tune,
All would be still, and quiet,
Streets which where once filled with laughter and music
Would become as silent as an icy winter breeze.
As cruel or as harsh as it may be,
It is apart of all of us,
Whether we choose to show it or not,
But beware if you lock it up inside,
You'll never find the true meaning of it,
Our life would die,
As love is life,
And life depends on love.
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