Images of flowers fill my head,
and I begin to moan, in dread.
What concoction is this,
leaving me feeling giddy
and wanting to kiss,
every smile I see turned
my way, no gents, I'm not gay,
but I feel so aloof, delirious,
I'm sad to say what I feel is serious.
Now, she is gone from my sight,
and those feelings I felt as a child,
are all gone, every single one,
and now I'm left, staring into the sun,
wondering, was it all for fun?
Is Love nothing but a scrudge upon our souls,
with no purpose but to entertain Himself,
and make us, His pitiful puppets?
I pity Romeo, for though his love was fickle,
his heart was passionate. If every man lived
with such passion, and accompanied by
compassion, and a sense of duty to
his fellow man, wouldn't the world be,
a better place?
