What is Love?

Is it just a thing

That brings you close,

Then turns you away.

For all I know is high and low,

Touch and go.

 

It's really such a feeble thing.

It tears apart the memories.

For every year is killed by thee,

If he is part of the melody.

 

It's so judgemental, clouded, feared.

For there is so much to lose when all is held dear,

And it has to be perfect or it falls short,

For love was fostered in the childhood fort.

It's molded by castles and adolescent brains,

Just like the thought of young boys with choo-choo trains.

 

We are all told what it is,

But is it that plain to see?

For it should not be a biz,

As the industries claim it to be.

It's time for a new definition,

One that is genuine and free.