Love Is Love Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

I feel it when it's needed.
Love.
And I know what it is,
To love.
It's easy for me to receive it.
Although few wish to give.

Many don't know what it is.
Some confuse it with sex.
To leave love left suspected.
And sceptics keep it pecked.
Until there's nothing left.

It's easy just to give it,
When it's physical.
And so pitiful when it becomes political.
To then be criticized and analyzed...
By those who become so cynical.

Love is love,
And not meant to be political.
Love is love,
And not critiqued by the pitiful.
Love is love and meant to feel...
To be what it is and real.

I feel it when it's needed.
Love.
And I know what it is,
To love.
It's easy for me to receive it.
Although few wish to give.

Many don't know what it is.
Some confuse it with sex.
To leave love left suspected.
And sceptics keep it pecked.
Until there's nothing left.

Love is love,
And not meant to be political.
Love is love,
And not critiqued by the pitiful.
Love is love and meant to feel...
To be what it is and real.

But...
Those sceptics keep it pecked.
To leave love left suspected,
Until there's nothing left.
Yet...
Love is love.
Love is love.

But...
Those sceptics keep it pecked.
To leave love left suspected,
Until there's nothing left.
Yet...
Love is love.
Love is love.