What is love, really?
Is it one dozen stolen moments in time
Where one shows great affection in secret?
Lies, sneaking and hiding
Looking for those rare opportunities
To hold her, kiss her or look into her eyes?
Standing at her door nervously
Hoping no one notices
How you cannot seem to stay away?
Is that love?
Or is it shouting from the rooftops what you truly feel?
Is it having the courage to openly pursue something real?
Knowing you may be rejected, is it coming clean?
In hopes of sharing something pure that is not obscene?
Or do you selfishly try to live two lives, stagnant between?
Can love be just like the way some are addicted?
Minds so cluttered and it's hard to concentrate?
Or the way that your heart goes pitter-patter
Before you ask that woman out on a date?
One thing for sure love cannot be;
One afraid to give it all up for me
No comments:
Post a Comment
We want your feedback.