What even is love?
An abstract idea at most?
A physical thing you can hold?
What can we do?
Love is consuming
It tears us down
Yet it builds us up
Nothing can compare
The truth is subjective
Love can't be more
Than a silly illusion
A trick of the inner eye
Or is it more?
Something tangible?
Something real to all?
What can it ever be?
YOU ARE READING
My poetry
PoetryRandom poetry I write whenever the topics vary widely. At this point, I much prefer free verse. While I occasionally use a rhyming scheme, or a sonnet, I will always opt for a free verse over them as I have discovered I have a knack for even talking...
