Love

Love,

Has a way of wilting,

Or blossoming,

At the strangest,

Most unpredictable hour.

This is how love is,

An uncontrollable beast

In the form of a flower.

The sun does not always shine on it,

Nor does the rain always pour on it,

Nor does it always get beaten by a storm,

Love does not always emit the sweetest scents,

And sometimes it can sting with its thorns.

Water it,

Give it plenty of sunlight,

Nurture it,

And the flower of love will

Outlive you,

Neglect it or keep dissecting it,

And its petals will quickly curl up and die.

This is how love is,

Perfection is a delusional vision.

So love the person who loves you

Unconditionally,

And abandon the one,

Who only loves you,

Under favorable

Conditions.