Words Can'T Describe - Poem by Derrick Andrews
It seems to me that love has lost its name.
Although it has increasing shameful fame.
It seems to be the norm of all new bonds,
To claim their love is endless and beyond.
And I can't stand the foolish, blinded, drones,
Who claim that love is what we all can own.
But I will now inquire and thus, eschew,
On what love is, and what it means to you.
It is to me a radiant, shining flower,
That withers not, but blooms upon the hour.
Its petals flutter colors undefined,
That rewrite and change the thoughts of all mankind.
To know that one is loved is truly bliss.
A wisp of swirling passion in each kiss.
That seems to grant one wings with which to soar.
That I should embark sadness never more.
But love to me is like a hollow shell.
A beautifully embossed cartridge of hell.
In which such things as hate and pain are born.
Amidst the eyes of jealousy and scorn.
To me, love is but a quaint illusion,
A illness resulting from sustained delusion,
And if you were to ever cross its path,
Be sure to hold your guard to shield its wrath.
My point is this, that love has many meanings,
But all of them to me just seem demeaning.
To me, love is the flight of sightless birds,
And can not be expressed in form of words.
Instead, I think of love as blinded trust,
In which maintenance and hard work are a must.
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