Love's a funny thing you see.
Its bane to openly use the word.
People turn off when used too much.
Me thinks they protest to loudly, thank the bard.
Bruise I willingly their ears a moment more.
People say they love but do they love indeed?
Are we loved when love is all about us?
Doing whats natural seems to be a poor excuse to use such a word for us.
Is it really love if there is no choice?
The children in the nest know not love for the parent.
They feel need gratified and gratitude alone.
It is easy to love when there is no oppostion...
When a fire is banked where will it consume?
Will it dwindle and die for the lack of fuel?
Will it find new ways to consume and intensify in heat?
Is love love at all if we only love those who love us?
Do we have such hearts as to only give when we shall recieve?
What reward is there for the heart that won't bleed?
Is love really love when it recalls not its maker?
When it forgets love shed on Calvary?
Did the Master of men set conditions when he shed his love upon the ground?
T'would seem that if we turn our eyes,
Saying that story is full of lies,
Giving excuses for our lack,
Perhaps then we can say love behind His back
A back still scored for love given for them who care not at all
No don't lay conditions on that word.
If you do you fly Him the bird.
Do that somewhere else where I can't see.
Find another word to abuse.
Leave love to those who take up his cross,
stepping on his feet.