Meeting…meaning,
Moments fleeting.
Love is wasted on the lonely.
No, love is…mysterious.
Maybe. Or…uncertain.
(Or maybe that’s just me.)
I love the concept
Of love.
I seek it everyday.
The love of people,
The love of friends,
The love of life,
And something more.
That something more
Still eludes me, though.
And yet I seek it.
Am I romantic?
Some have said no.
Am I sentimental?
Most certainly.
Compassionate
and passionate, too.
But…
Am I hope-fooled
Or hope-full?
What currency
Do I have, to pay,
If true love
Comes my way?
And more
Immediate still…
Is there a place
For one such as I
When night falls
With a chill?
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