What is love?

What’s that thing called love mean?

Is it when you live a dream?


When your understanding is clear and teem?

Or is it when your tears form a stream,


They drop and gleam,

Because you care so much,


As to wish for a single warm clutch.

But for to ask something as such,


They couldn’t do,

Or they wouldn’t do it for you.

View danthepolishman's Full Portfolio