A . D E F I N I T I O N
[ Diana Austria ]
Note: this poem I wrote in 8th grade for another dumb guy. hahaha dang I was pretty crazy back then =P
Love is nothing to be used,
Love is not hate and despair,
Love is not an object on the ground,
Love is to cherish and to care.
I am aware,
Of this small definition,
But it is hard to imagine,
In this vast population,
There is one true person,
That I could've seen one day,
That will follow love's definition,
And whose love will never go astray.
When I am alone at night,
I often ponder at this thought,
Sometimes laughing, sometimes wondering,
Of this individual I so sought.
No one I can turn to,
For they know not how it is to feel,
A love encouraged and emphasized,
But truly is unreal.
My emotions often change,
One day I am in despair.
Another I am in cheer.
The confusion I cannot bear.
If only I had my true love now,
Desperately I often think.
He would hold me tight and comfort me.
I know I could never sink.
Then reality comes in view:
He would probably leave me there,
Crying with a broken heart.
If I so-call have one true love, the where?
I have a certain "crush",
As all girls usually do.
But is this another game to be played,
Or is it this time true?
Love is to cherish and to care.
True, but usually once in a while.
To me, it is a confusing burden.
I cannot bear another mile.
So here I am confused and lost,
Pondering at the definition of love.
Hoping there will truly be someone,
That someone that I dream of.
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