Love Poem by Charlotte Ballard

Love



Love is a spiteful thing
The best is at first
The last is the worst
Lovers who once share a bed
Now share a child
Twice yearly moving instead.
The man curses the day
That he decided to pursue her.
The woman regrets all that
She thinks she gave up.
Long nails shred hope
Promises, love kisses
And poetry no more.

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