What Is Love

Love's just a word that's used much to much
To justify one's feelings, whether it's reciprocated or not
This inexplicable madness that gets in one's blood
Contradictory or not, that obsession that one thinks it's love

Can not be changed reasonably, it destroys one's well, being one's soul
The ambiguity of being in love, taking one's pride away
The illusion that one feels loved, the ambivalence of one's acts
In changing what's in one's heart, it's neither here or there

As they take your reasoning your mind, your heart
Like a  Boa Constrictor ominously constricting ones breath away.
I know not much about love, the fatality of love your destiny, or not
Never having to fight for love in any way, lucky I guess..I've never felt love like this

That wish, the ambiguity of that wish, reasonably or not one's mind does not reason with it
When love comes into your life, early later or not.. unsure how to deal with it
It's ridiculous its irresponsible its absurd, whether it's conscientious or not
It's irreparable that one's feelings run's so deeply, mysteriously little by little

Taking the best or the worst of me..that one just gives getting nothing in return, it's selfish
Love brings great sorrow, sometimes ecstasy, the ecstasy, of being in love blinkered by love
Seeing not the destruction of forbidden love..the ambiguity..one knows not the reason
Why one loves there's no reasoning with love, it's in one's mind one's heart ones soul,

One loves simply because one does, Its in your whole being, it's in  the core of you
A soul that does not think, it does not reason with one's mind it's incomprehensible
The ambiguousness that one goes through life zombie, like when one says and does
Certain things that are not the norm, in many ways

But one goes bumbling through life, whether one wants to or not, fall in love
Or lust one may say..But with a head that thinks not, the impediments in its way
As tears flow's or not;  unconsciously they flow annoyingly away
As if the flood, gates opens ominously, without controlling it no way

Psychologically one gets bombarded, with words of love verses of poetry
Enough's enough it send ones barking mad, with this obsession that's called love, ambiguously
The ambivalence whether its love lust or not, you can't have it both ways
To drink from the spring of youth, the spring where I was born; many a day away.

                                                By Connie James