'What's love? ' she asks, and I reply: <br />'This strong, pure admiration <br />that I feel for you inside.' <br /> <br />'And why does love exist? ' <br />'To make life bearable, ' I say, <br />'and compensate for grief and pain.' <br /> <br />'But when does it take place, <br />and where? ' she wants to know. <br />'Each time I glance at you, ' I answer <br />'and everywhere I look, from head to toe.' <br /> <br />She seems quite happy with these words, <br />romantic as they try to be; but then <br />I sense that something isn't right: <br />if this sentiment were mutual, <br />she'd know what love was like!<br /><br />Robert Melliard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-2149/
