Bed of roses or thorns

Ooh, man, life could well 
       be a bed of roses 
If only love alone
sprinkled from the hoses. 

If only love flowed
      like an endless stream 
If only love didn\'t end 
    like a shortlived dream. 

In all certainty, the antonym of love
        plunges you in the bed of thorns 
Much unlike the agile yet peaceful dove
       love grows weeds, rust and horns! 

I so pity the lovelorn, 
     the lovesick, the forlorn 
whose lover flew out
        the window last morn 

But I know too of pure loves 
       that outlast the storms 
for one, they didn\'t begin 
          in high school dorms. 

They weren\'t unstable premarital loves
     nor impulsive loves for sure 
Less whimsical, and within the bounds
      of the marital bond so
their love tis bound to endure. 

                For in wedlock\'s hammock 
       fickle lovers don\'t fit and rock. 
        Since without holy matrimony
               Is merry go round love\'s agony