Each soul is a ship
Floating on a sea of Love
Winds billowing in her sails
As white as the wings of a dove.

The trouble with love, you see
Is that no one understands
That Love is not sex but friendship
The test of time withstands,

That friendship can be in any form
Either between friends or between a girl and boy;
The love is the same and yet different
And none of it should ever be used as a toy.

Love is not a game to be played;
Love is a serious thing.
Love can send you down to the abyss
Or up above the clouds on wing.

The thing that is misunderstood
Is that love is not based on beauty,
Or on money or other superficial things
Or on coolness or popularity;

Love is based on inner beauty
The soul that fills a plane that's wide.
It shouldn't matter anything
But who you are inside.

And that is what love is.

E-mail the author at Bethdrgyn@aol.com.
Visit her page, The Realm of the Oddball: Take Forty-Two.

<-Inner Domicile

The People's Gallery

Suicide->