It is so strange to read about love…
A lot of words, one better other one…
But saying words is not for love enough,
It lives in our hearts and is the sun.
It can be sweet and real when we feel
Like one hand takes another in the dark.
It can be awful when it makes us ill,
We are unhappy crying in the park.
It can be holly when we look at God,
In our prayers thank for everything.
It can be sleepy, shy and noisy, but
It goes away when we of tears think…
It can leave us when we believe in tears,
We shut our mind from other lonely heart,
We live alone and stay under the fears,
Just sit and wait for day another start…
But if we love we should not be afraid
Of being close to happiness in us,
Because by Angels everything were made
To make us troubles with the trusty pass…
It is so strange to read about love,
Because the feelings cannot be described.
And saying words is not for love enough…
Without love we live but we are died.