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What Is Love?

Writer's picture: Theresa BaxterTheresa Baxter

So curious, this simple word

Innocuous, when first it’s heard

A babe must learn from mother’s tune

Then comes to treat it like a rune

So powerful, we seek to conjure

Its influence, for years, we ponder

How quickly at our core it grasps

With such strength we’re caught in its clasp

Or panacea, the quickest fix

Like poodle trained with silly tricks

When million poets wax rhapsodic

A million cynics grow sardonic

No other word can spin us round

Yet search we will until it’s found

Might heal the hurts we can’t help hurl

It spreads like fire, eats the world

Enraptured so we’ll give away

Autonomy, in hopes to sway

The heart to open to our spell

Is it sincere? We cannot tell

It is the key, yet takes the blame

Will drive us wild, yet won’t be tamed…

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