The day my mind is still, it would be the final chapter for My Mind's Drama Copyrights@ Lilow 2004-2009

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

This Parcel Called Love

Love is like a parcel,
Comes with a bunch of items,
Links to what we call emotions,
They interconnects,
You can't select one;
Without the other item,
It is a set...

In love,
You will experience happiness,
One that you can't describe
One that makes your cheeks warm,
But it is not a fever,
One that makes that person reappears,
Many times in your dreams,
One that makes you paranoid,
Over every single word,
Ever spoken by that person..

Nonetheless in love,
Loneliness is inescapable,
With strings of irritancies,
When you long for that person,
To wrap your arms around,
Yet they are so far,
When you hope to laugh together,
Yet they are not there,
When you hope they will respond more,
But they are silent mostly,
Leaving you subtle hints of affection,
And some flattering words,
Throws you off your equilibrium..

In Love,
Sadness is part of it,
When your heart is broken,
When your love is unrequited,
When angry words hurt your feelings,
When the person you love falls for your best friend,
When the person clings to their past,
When they disappear from your life..

Somehow in love,
It leaves eternal memories,
Whether bitter, sad or loneliness,
They make you smile too,
When you have moved on...

Hence,
Love is a parcel,
With inseparable items,
Can you handle them?
Or will you reject it?
Would you be remorseful in this life;
If you have never receive it?
Or is it in your hand?
But you have never found the courage,
To open the parcel...



(Inspired by Fruit Basket)

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