Conditioned To Lie
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Love’s like a flower; it needs room
to grow within the heart and soul.
And immature dreams cannot bloom
when doubt levies a heavy toll.
When passion's flame gets doused by tears,
Hope overrides being cautious.
Yet, as time slowly fuels fears,
anxiety leaves you nauseous.
Numb to the hurt that never stops;
you find yourself wanting to cry.
For misery turns to teardrops
in a world conditioned to lie.
When a moth and flame start their waltz,
desire burns hotter than the fire.
For enamored, it sees no faults,
yet courting death; it'll soon expire.
A flame can only be a flame;
it can't change its natural ways.
And it feels neither love nor shame;
when its heat morphs into a blaze.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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