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An Excerpt on Love

I think love is when you can’t close your eyes to sleep,

because you haven’t heard the familiar lullaby of a voice from the one you love…

Love, what is it?

Is it a long and distant lullaby

Remembered long ago, a mother’s voice cradling a child

Love, who is it?

Growing up lost, to try

In a time of constant stop and go, changes going wild

Love, when was it?

Realized by two, born to die 

My love will surely go on after a soul departing gently smiled

Love, where is it?

Now gone only left to wonder, why?

© The Sad Owl

Categories: poetry Prose

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

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