To what extent is it all consuming?
How does it fill you up?
In what respect is it yours forever?
And how does it last?
Feelings, Emotion and loss,
All mixed up in happiness and bliss,
Confusion when spoken,
Heartache when forgotten,
Hard to grow with,
Yet it is forever to keep locked within.
When you want to shout from the mountain tops,
And scream at the world in frustration,
If it was easy everyone would have it,
If it was always there, no one would be sad,
And if you want it, the work of a thousand men is needed.
To sing a song, or write a sonnet,
Is nothing compared to being it.
All to say is when you have it,
Hold it forever within.