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