I walk along the edge of the world
Observing all the lives intertwined with each other,
like vines climbing up a balcony.
Some stay tightly wound, no matter the pain they
must endure, while others pull away, the thorns
Stabbing at flesh that is too tender.
And some feel ripped away too early,
Intermingling with the Vine on top of the balcony,
Overlooking the world, with all its victories and
plunders.
I hear the soft words whispered lovingly,
But also the harsh ones spit angrily.
The three words not enough to express the raw emotion they symbolize,
Or they are muttered often without meaning,
Only a social norm forced upon us, devoid of any passion.
Love is crying out, our simple words its cage.
Whenever it is misused, a bit of it dies.
Our tongues soon will lose the ability to utter it,
For we have mistreated it for too long.
Love will leave this world if we do not start appreciating it in its true form.