Alright, I admit it! I can take the guilt no longer! I write love poems too! Agh, the shame, it's unbearable!
I've often been asked,
By friend and by foe,
"Jeff, what is love?
And how will I know?"
This is my answer,
My heart's deepest plea,
And thus do I share
What love is to me:
If love were a rose,
It would bloom and not die,
Outlasting the winter,
Growing with time
'Til the whole world could see,
Despite frosts and snows,
That some things can last,
If love were a rose.
If love were a star,
It would shine through the night.
It would bring us each other,
We could bathe in its light
Knowing together,
Brought close from afar,
I'd hold you forever,
If love were a star.
If love were a hawk,
It would soar through the air,
The earth left behind,
It would fly without care
Reaching the heavens,
Apart from the flock,
So would we fly,
If love were a hawk.
If love were a child,
It would be from our hearts.
Consummation of love,
We never would part
With the joy that we'd found,
Brought into our lives.
Two hearts as one,
If love were a child.
No matter what love is,
Rose, star, hawk, or child,
As long as I have you
Forever I'll fly.
Never to leave you,
Always we'll be
In each other's hearts,
And that's love to me.
- Loupy (flushing his no-love-poetry rep down the toilet)