Since a youngin the definition of love was a confusion
How do you know if it's real or just an illusion ?
How do you show it without a second conclusion?
Confused if this is a blessing or curse
With an ill infection without a cure to disperse
You could think it couldn't get any worse
Until it started to sprout with contagious doubt
Can someone take this emptiness away
Or is it a part of me that's forever to stay
Just an ordinary thing I analyze everyday
Is there anyone I can give me some warmth without getting cold
Even though I know there's no one that can hold
This dried ice of heart, that's not like you're told
It'll get whoever burnt, who tries to hold my dried ice heart of gold
While I'm trying to love and take a chance
My mind can't help but to wonder to space
I don't want to be stuck in a maze from feeling amazed
Since the devil is always giving illusions
The thought of love is a confusion
That I can't feel without a second conclusion
YOU ARE READING
Ill Transmitted Infection
PoetrySelf made poetry. A story of a foreign guy that grows up emotionless.
