To me, there is no definition…
except that in the end,
it always hurts.
Written in 1983
You are such an interesting person. I imagine there is some truth to this, but as far as I can tell there is hurt in the beginning, middle, and I guess for many the end too. My end to “Love” hasn't come, so I guess I will have to wait and see. I like how you say “there is no definition” so true. Tommy G.
🙂This poem was based on watching my mother's relationships fall apart one after another. That and my own teen disappointments.
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