Photo credit: Axel Vazquez
…………………if you are not standing with me?”
What is love, when hearts no longer speak—gently?
And our arms may betray us to a state of blues:
What is love, when hate blinds me, when hate blinds you?
Taking us for a joke—taking us for a mere fool:
What is love when we wrong each other?
And its hard to say sorry, its’ hard to pardon,
Its’ hard to speak the truth and in his or her presence,
Somehow, we become lower & lower—to the self;
While the game continues like naive little children,
Learning, over and over—again, the golden rule,
As we ask ourselves: what is love, what is really love?”
“I would truly like to know—my good friends!”