Have you ever read a song of love?
To the mother, father or the love like doves?
The poet celebrates love like the moon
the stars fall and the birds swoon.
The river now like the silver thread
treads on the verses to be in-love, dressed.
Or maybe the trees, in their glee dance
the flowers are everywhere
the meadows are but a trance.
I have a mother, about fifty is she.
She wakes me up still, and there is nothing better than
the food she gives.
I have my friends, whom I deeply love
we may throw shots, and I know it's tough
but still, together we stick.
The weird thing - I haven't ever
used those fancy lines;
the stars still glow
and the moon is still bright.
Love though -it's a different pain
it comes in simple words
often the ones disdained.
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