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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1682115
This is a silly poem I wrote when I was 17.
What is love?
Can anyone help me?

I thought I knew,
but it really wasn’t true.
The feelings I feel I can not show,
The more I try to stop it, the more it wants to grow.
We are connected in a way
That makes me confused to even say
The relationship that we share
Isn’t at all fair
He doesn’t know my love for him is this strong
And yet I fight with myself on whether or not it’s wrong
What am I to do?
Does he love me to?
Never in my life will this ever change
If I love my friend, is it strange?

So what is love?

Maybe it’s so magical one could not define
Still I wish his love would deepen just like mine

What if it is?

What if it’s not?

Who are we to say?

Maybe my mind is playing games
Still my love for him is not the same
Am I wrong to want my love to be free?
How can I tell? When will I see?
To try to stop this would be impossible for me

What is love?

Can we really say?
Or is it something we do everyday?

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