I used to know what love was,
I’d say all of the time.
I’d get that butterfly feeling,
Knowing they were mine.
Now what is love?
The meaning isn’t true.
It’s not something you say,
More something that you do!
Its become more than a feeling,
It’s almost a way of life.
But when they have a broken heart,
They may just then think twice.
What is love to me?
Truth that has been bent
A meaningless feeling,
A word that’s never meant
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love is something you achieve, not taken nor given.Nice writes sarah.