Sometimes, I wonder about
“Love” and those led astray
as the whirlwind of doubt
darkens in me all that is gay.
~
Once upon a time, you see,
“Love” sat amid these trees
to watch in united jubilee
a boy, a girl, and a breeze.
Ah, but nothing is more profound
in the palsy passing of time
than when “Love” runs aground
and breaks a golden chime.
Was “Love” meant to sit there,
beneath blueberry skies?
Why did vows crumble to despair
and drown with goodbyes?
~
Well, at least they could sigh,
and gave romance their all—
for me, I shall always deny
“Love”, who knows I won't fall.
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