The days go by, and I begin to doubt
That love could ever be so important
To someone’s existence. The sheer strain
Of having to constantly go out of your way
Just to please someone of the opposite sex
Would surely discourage anyone
From actively seeking to fall in love.
The constant burden of providing
Joy and happiness to another being
Must certainly frighten all young lovers.
The sacrifices one must make could
Hardly be worth what little love
You would receive in turn, and yet,
I suppose if I were in love . . .
Sept. 3, 1981
© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.