Love
Love is a rose when it's still a bud
It wilts; it deteriorates
It's a day of sunrise
Or a day of sunset
It is noon of the day
When it's hot
It is a promise you expect
To give and receive
But without its symbiosis,
It becomes a-feet
It becomes a knife
It becomes a gun
It kills
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
