Love
what is that thing called
that music is the food of
just a mirage, a fantasy, a dream
a candyfloss of thistledown
a melt-too-quick ice-cream
they caught it in a net
a butterfly still fluttering
so delicate
and yet
that was not love
it's what people are in
fall out of
can't find
it's completely contradictory to how we've been designed
so whoever's pulling strings
somewhere up above
give us something easy
what we want's not love
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
