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Literature Text
I remember when I was little and
Love was simple
I loved mom and dad
Gramma and Granpa
and every Sunday in church
they said we ought to love everyone
But as I got older
I realized they didn't mean everyone
because they really don't love anyone
so how could they know what
it is to love someone
and now that I know that
I shouldn't love everyone I
find out that noone
really loves anyone
because noone even knows what love is anymore
so how could they love when they
don't understand it and they
try to define it by
tying it up and throwing it
in a little box and saying
'yeah this is love, love
only really comes in one form
and even though I'm saying you should
love everyone what I mean is only love
people that fit my mold' and they say
one thing while they shoot another
and I wish I was three again
when I knew all that I'll ever need
to know about love and didn't
know that there are so damned
many rules about love and who and where
you can love and dammit can
someone tell me when it got
so fucking complicated?
Love was simple
I loved mom and dad
Gramma and Granpa
and every Sunday in church
they said we ought to love everyone
But as I got older
I realized they didn't mean everyone
because they really don't love anyone
so how could they know what
it is to love someone
and now that I know that
I shouldn't love everyone I
find out that noone
really loves anyone
because noone even knows what love is anymore
so how could they love when they
don't understand it and they
try to define it by
tying it up and throwing it
in a little box and saying
'yeah this is love, love
only really comes in one form
and even though I'm saying you should
love everyone what I mean is only love
people that fit my mold' and they say
one thing while they shoot another
and I wish I was three again
when I knew all that I'll ever need
to know about love and didn't
know that there are so damned
many rules about love and who and where
you can love and dammit can
someone tell me when it got
so fucking complicated?
Awh, I wrote this back when I was 50 kinds of fucked up over Rachel and refusing to admit I liked her. heh.
© 2007 - 2024 carperawr
Comments1
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I remember reading this when you first wrote it. I still think it's a good poem, it's very heart-filled and emotional.