![]() |
A short poem about what love is |
| To love for the joy of loving is love in the real sense, From want or need love never really does commence. To love is to let go of all your defenses, Accept being vulnerable and get rid of the pretenses. You say love gets you writhing in pain You beg for peace but all in vain But as you sense the longing within you You realise that ,after all Love seeks to embrace your pain. |