Love is like Chinaware, shiny, beautiful
often broken and rarely lasts.
Love is a special breed of coward
steps out for war, but melts in the sun.
Love is a bouquet of flowers
of roses red and daisies violet
Love blooms and blushes in the dew
but wilts and decays, just like you.
Love is a song of sweet obscenities
of lust, of greed, of addiction that thrills.
Love is sweetness, so sweet, it makes ill
yet at every taste of love, I crave more, still.
Love is a roar, but it is silent too,
were you in love with me? I have no clue.
Love is a phase of fleeting ships
dancing to the music of ocean tides
Love will row uncharted seas
with wanton wishes whispering ‘why?’
Love sails like floating feather in the wind
love fades, love sucks, love heals.
Love comes, but then it leaves
you can say it’s the autumn of fallen leaves.
Love creeps in, but rushes out in the cold
unrequited love, it dispirits the soul.
Love is sweet sadness easily forgotten
however love tastes, it’s never rotten.
All of these could [or not] be love
but love that never tastes sour, is no love at all.