Love portions keeps us in motion
The whole world just to mention
We all live and love to love…
But maybe, maybe not all of us.
Some people are so lazy enough to
Experience and tell what love really is.
It’s one’s choice as love can be so choosey.
Picking a ripe fruit from the tree
Is of much resemblance to how free
We easily choose on the ‘ripe love’
The outside is as beautiful and sweet smelling
But the inside can be as disgusting and smelly
So what is to blame, the hand that picks…
Or the mind that drives the hand?
The strong feeling that we call love
Is the only that matters in us…
The person involved is just but an object
With much of the sparks that we crave
Not so much in need of them but badly
Want to experience it all… with little care
Of how they are, and that’s how blind it is.
We thank love for the joy it brings and
Hate it all for the bottle of drinks it drains
It will take us to heaven… and hell without
Any care at all, for it is as insane as we are.
We blame love for it’s cracks…easily forgetting
We dragged ourselves into the mess and
Mending it will depend on the little care
The care that love’s fate takes with.