What is this thing called love?
I know nothing about it
And yet…
I feel like I do
I long for it
This thing called love
It is so rare
Like a flower
Everyday
I grieve
For love
Because I cannot have it
I want so much
to grow up
and at the same time
I want to go back
To when things were so much simpler
At the same time
I hope
That I can live in the moment
It is so hard
Sometimes
All these thoughts
They make me crazy
I want more
So much more
Despite knowing so much
Already
Having so much
Already
But
I guess, for now
I must be content
With this love affair
I have
With poetry
And to be content
With hoping
That someday
I  will find love