Love In My Own Words

Love is a selfish turtle
that never shares its home
It’s a mole that brags about its blindness
and digs deeper into a hole

Love is not complicated
but people are, you see
They season it with a spoonful of reason
And sprinkle it with a teaspoon of doubt

Love is not blind, at all
But with a perfect eyesight
So clear is its vision
sneaking through what it ought not see

Love does not set a goal
nor aspire a dream
for it is in itself a fulfillment
in its core true content

Love spells in more than letters of four
and others find it compounded
there must be a reason behind it
when logic tries to define it

Love for some is twin to eternity
the way they describe it in their vows
but moment by moment it sees itself
in things that are temporary

Love is not scaled with tears
nor is it weighed in laughters
for no numbers reckon its measurement
nor lines determine its shape

Love in the simplest of words
may be challenged by the simplest of actions
For once uttered in petals and springs
awaits brief hours of withering.

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