Young Love
A wise man unwritten letter
To his future self
A prickly feeling that keeps one on their feet
You notice the other but never yourself
You make time for the other
Stand on your feet and call out mistakes
A wild free feeling
Wanting for the wind
Can't grasp it
It's fleeting yet memorable
A whisper in the morning
A loud cry in the night
Exchanged letters and clothes
To become a memory no one should talk about
Cupcakes on Mondays
Sorbet on Thursdays
But you preferred Saturdays
Confessions said out loud
The heart not so sure
A wild free feeling
It's the magic they all talk about
To only turn devastating and tragic
Makes you wonder
It changes
Against two people
What becomes of it when a third arrives?
I haven't experienced it
But this is my definition
Comprehension is never taking seriously
Only the lucky ones
What is it actually?
It's quite haunting and daunting
If you ask me
I wanted to know what it was like
But I was scared my balloon will fly away
When I give it out
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