originally known as Come as you are
some personal poems about little 'ol life
and photos to entertain the eyes
poetry + fotas
What is this thing we ponder for,
And search the widest seas? The thing that brings women to tears, And men weak in their knees. What is this thing we pray for, And die when it’s not around? The thing that make our hearts flutter, Though our feet remain on the ground. What is this thing we’d kill for? And makes another more important than yourself? That thing where we need one being; There’s no satisfaction with anyone else. It’s three words make us speechless. Scared and happy all the same. And when we lose our minds from lack there of, This thing, is only to blame. How can something that builds a person up, Proceed to tear her down? Like a summer storm that leads with blue, And ends in clouds that rip the ground. What evil is this that lies inside, The organ which runs our souls? A feeling so constant in the young, The poor, the rich, and old. Love is what we call it. A devil due, an angel reborn. It keeps our hearts intact, Yet keeps them always torn. Like a high, it’s never satisfying Each time disappoints the rest. Until we find ourselves settling, For merely second best. What is love? Oh! Is it true? Or does it tell a myth? Whatsoever it may really be, We’ve all come to live with it. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
February 2015
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