6
We’ll last forever, or at least till December.
Love is for always, or till it grows cold.
Youth is undying, spring is eternal,
Or till hair turns white and leaves turn gold.
Truth is beauty and is unending,
At least till someone finds a much better line.
Joy is a fountain, that never stops flowing,
Or at least until the effects wear off from the wine.
Copyright © Ashley Poort | Year Posted 2011
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