Is it Love?
Would you call it love,
if I have no reason for falling first?
Constantly fleeting glances—oh, have I been cursed?
Is it, in fact, love, or just a form of lust?
Would you call it love
if my heart has changed its pace?
Eyes complain if I go a day without seeing his face.
Oh, to have myself surrender to such radiant grace.
Would you call it love
if his smile is all it takes to make my day?
A sigh escapes my lips as he washes my pain away.
With just his gleaming glow, no words left to say.
I guess it is love,
’cause he hasn’t left my mind since day one.
He’s the reason my world is brighter than the sun.
A single smile has left me catching feelings, faster than I could ever outrun.
I guess it is love,
when the anxious butterflies settle down
and are replaced by serene flowers blossoming on my crown.
The power his eyes hold, I might just sink and drown.
I guess it is love,
as I keep looking back, capturing every curve,
engraving it in my heart, you might call me absurd.
As we bid a final goodbye, one last touch to preserve.










