Love

<i>What is love?
I am told love brings us together,
But more than often it seems it brings us part.
Love is how you look at someone,
But more than often their sight it hidden from your heart.
Love is how you treat someone,
But more than often they do not treat you at all.
Love is supposed to be more than a game for two,
But more than often,
It feels like a lonely game of solitaire.
Solitarily ignored,
Solitarily seen,
Solitarily spoken to,
And solitarily loved.
A one-sided triangle,
No one needs worry of affairs.
Love is not a game,
When only one will play.
Love is not happiness when one is
Miserably attempting to hold on.
Love,
Love is unseen,
Love is unknown.
One may try and define it,
But you will always fail.
Love is that teasing little sprite,
Turning in and out of corners,
Running from your sight.
Love does not show mercy,
And you can’t catch it and
Hold it in your hand.
Love hates bargains,
It has its own special demand.
It demands that you give up all you have,
Throw it on the ground.
Trample on it,
Then pick it up,
Until you’ve finally found.
That love cannot be caught,
You can’t find it and keep it hidden.
If love was what you thought you had,
Then my friend,
You were simply smitten.
For once you think you have it,
It runs and hides away.
For love is not one,
To agree to anyone’s ways.
</i>

by writingmysoulsdiary
posted on 04/09/2008