On Love – I

Before anyone faints or cries or laughs their asses so hard that they die (RIP),

this (one written after many a month!) poem

partially influenced by another,

which was suggested by my friend,

the hopeless romantic, forever. 

[A Poem about Love]

I am undoubtedly the wrong person to talk about love.

To date, I do not know if what I fell into,

was love,

or a reminder from above.

A reminder,

to be nice,

to be kind,

or merely to appreciate,

the ones I had left behind.

For those I may have not loved,

all I say is sorry.

You chose wrong, you must agree.

For I am not the one you sought

nor the one you thought I was.

They say it is better,

for those who loved and lost,

than never to have loved at all.

I still cannot answer that, for I may not have loved at all.

Or like most of you out there,

loved, yet could not share.

For many a reason,

well guarded and cautioned,

I opted for a vow of silence

and loved in his absence.

“Love”, rings in one’s tone,

and perhaps has a different ring to its own.

But till it rings,

and the famed angels sing,

love is,

what it is.


10 thoughts on “On Love – I

  1. purpleboxers says:

    It comes. It comes. Sometimes it’s found at the bottom of a bottle or the end of a breadstick you’re sharing.

    But like with God and faith, we must await its beckoning, for the wait will be worth it. And in the meantime, life offers many mortal/spiritual distractions and indulgences.



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