A Victim Of Love
Not knowing where it began or ends.
Times filled with tears
Times in your arms
Times I climb walls, even
fell in love with your
truths and lies.
I hurt, No kisses
To lessen pains
Is love a pleasant indulgence, or
A natural unlearned emotion?
Ovid, why you see love an art
When these years we know it’s not.
No teacher of love for women
We are just victims of your art
Romantic to the core thy art.
Seems loneliness and
frustration are our lot
So wounded by cupid’s dart
Drip, drop... my blood
Tear-filled nights I shiver.
Low burns fire in ripe age.Yet
my ladle is filled with love.
Thrist no more my aried mouth.
Me and Love...
stay where you belong
let not loss love
be the price of war
September 20,2009
Almedia S Knight
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
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