This poem is short, but also the best I could come up with for the Valentines day season that isn't as morbid as the rest of my poems. (Yes, I do know they are morbid.)
The Question of Love
What is love?
Other than a day of passion.
A woman in satin?
Or maybe its the kiss,
a sweet kiss.
What is love?
Is it the look in his eyes?
The deep timbre of his voice?
The idea of making new lives?
Is love a choice?
What is love?
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