Love,
First began with the touch,
Of a million needles ripping,
Through the veins that give you-
Life.
Life,
Where do I start?
How do I end?
Those who find the answer,
Only know,
Love is the epidemy of life.
For those who are lucky,
End up alone-
Dying.
Dying,
Can one not see?
What you give,
Is not what you get,
But rather an illusion,
That nothing will ever be the same.
As the first one and only-
Love.
Gone.
-
Author:
yasemin (
Offline) - Published: September 9th, 2017 04:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments1
WELCOME YASEMIN ~ Thanks for your first Poem. There is an underlying sadness as it scales the heights and plumbs the depths of LOVE. We all experience this as our Love Life ebbs & flows and I agree with your prognosis. Love is (indeed) the EPIDEMY (EPIDEMIC) of Life ~ thanks for Caring & Sharing ~ Your BRIAN (UK) Please check my Poems ~ Thanks B.
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