Qualms
Love has no boundaries; only detours.
Feelings aren’t lost; they wander away.
Smiles don’t disappear; they’re robbed.
Bodies have no soul; just a beating heart.
Where has love gone?
Why let feelings roam?
When were smiles stolen?
How fast beats the heart?
Roads have no ends; only boundaries.
Books get lost; they don’t wander away
Shadows don’t get robbed; they disappear.
Flowers have names; not a beating heart.
Why doesn’t the road end?
Where are the lost books?
When will shadow stop vanishing?
How are flowers named?
Questions aren’t made; they’re created.
Answers aren’t derived; they’re found.
Nature isn’t passable; it’s desirable.
Society isn’t inexplicable; they’re liable.
Copyright © Pr Im | Year Posted 2015
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