If love is a dish in restaurants,
I'd love to order as much as I can,
Devour it without leaving remnants
and I'll stuff my mouth as full as I can.
O, gluttony! Take over this body—
Satisfy the desire of my palate
by giving me a mouthful remedy
and a flavor of different palette.
Once served, I would smell first its aroma,
Savor its delectable appetite,
Indulge myself in ethereal coma,
Then I'll relish the taste of my first bite.
And if love is a dish in restaurants,
I'd gobble it without leaving remnants.
YOU ARE READING
Blued Lines
PoetryTo those whose heart has been ripped apart, you're not alone in the boat. If you think that poets write wonderful lines and echoing endings, then you got it wrong because we also get broken and as you read each poem, the sadder and painful it become...