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We Will Never Master The Baiting Of It

Intrigued by the subject of love,
And left bewildered...
By the definition of it.
With a wish to command,
Its presence.

But love,
If it is real...
Is out of one's hands.

Intriqued by the subject of love,
And the question of depth...
Of how much of love,
Should take away our breath.
And how can it be,
No one can say...
Enough of love has been had?
Until one has taken theirs away.
To feel what was in our hearts that was felt.
With a hope that it returns back to us to stay.

But love,
If it is real...
Is out of one's hands.
And far from a demanding of it.

To admit that it is out of our hands,
But in our minds and hearts...
And everywhere else it seems to be a part.
No one understands.

Yet...
In our hands,
It seems to come and go...
As it chooses.
To prove...
We will never,
Master the baiting of it to stay.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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