Love is not a song.
Nor a poem.
Or even a feeling received
Once or twice,
But every day of your
Life.
Love is not an answer to any question.
Love has never hurt anyone but
Those who seek it as
The only
Acceptable
Answer.
The answer is in our minds.
Love is the most real
Emotion to ever be,
Yet,
We harness it like
We do
Our groceries.
All of the paper
And plastic,
And wrappers we throw,
Make it seem like our consumerism
Is what we love in this world
Most.
Toss it
Neither here nor there,
But everywhere.
We litter our world with transient
Love,
But never reciprocate to those
Who truly love us.
I love you because you are
Authentically
You,
And I never want that to change.
I love life because you and all of
The humans I co-exist with
Possess this emotion.
Love is our making,
But it is never our end.
We do our own bidding
But the price is never too high.
We must pay a price.
Bail at the nearest
Store.
Buying our freedom
From a cell
We thought we were forced into.
The bars we look out of with our own
Eyes
Are hardly bars at all,
But a filter through which we must see
Our world,
With all of its love.
I may know nothing about you
In retrospect,
But I want to.