Love Poem: What Is

What Is

So very hard to find, define, and even more difficult to confine
What is this emotion filled with doubt and superstitious notions
Why is there even a special potion

It’s far more complex than abstract art
Yet it grabs hold of your heart like a permanent-body-part

Why so many intricate highs and lows
Why, no-one seems to ever know

It has highs explosive as the fourth of July
When everything seems simple - and sweet - as apple pie

Your life is filled with a sense of optimistic clarity
In a world filled with hopeless disparities

With not a worry in the world
Your mind, body, and soul are on permanent-cruise-control

But when it’s bad it feels worse than a stigma
That kind of pain is one hell of an enigma

When this feeling is altered or no longer shared
You’re left feeling lost-and-alone with no one to care
What an unimaginable burden to bear…

“What is”; what does this truly mean?
The answer to this question - for me - still remains unseen!

Lay