I wonder how it is,
That so many people spin on a whim for love; but never truly find it or feel it.
It’s as if the world is in love with being in love; hungry and desperate for it; but there is no real love left, to be found. If there is; it isn’t valued for what it is worth; or even wanted most times from the receiver.
The measure of love seems to be these days; just how much you can bend to fit the mold of your “other”.
There shouldn’t be a mold, or any bending going on; because that bending always bends you eventually, to the point that you will break.
Love doesn’t mean much, if you’re moving on to the next best thing in your head, after your “other” is asleep.
Love is just a word that people use to describe a feeling; but most of the people using the term, don’t even get the concept.
There is no loyalty, or true assurance backed up by actions anymore. Nothing to rely on, except the latest fight…and what will be spun into something that it’s not…next.
There is nothing really but people falling in and out, of what they claim to be love; and then wondering why and how things didn’t work out; and then going on to love someone else, that will only bend better than the last one.
J. Rounds ©2018 ~Peaces of ME