Love
A thing that not many can endure
The pressure
You treasue
Once knocked at my door
Small and brittle
My heart ripped in four
What love was for certain
I wasn't quite sure
Till you came
Love was to blame
Heart break and pain
Should i open the door i asked once more
Will i be able to
Treasure the pressure
Being able to endure
Love and further more
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: