Love is a word, never quite understood
its meaning changes, as it sometimes should
it could cause a tear, while showing its care
it could reside far away, or it could be near

It could be hidden, sometimes in the open
maybe it could go lost, but could never be stolen
love can be a sickness, sometimes it's the cure
and with the right words, it causes that allure

Whatever love is, very much can be said
shared with both the living, and the dead
love removes unhappiness from within our soul
binding even strangers to share a common goal

When our time comes, we will all be called upon high
asked to give an accounting, without being able to lie
how much friendship, peace and love did you spread
or with your own selfishness, did you choose to be fed

For now, however, you don't feel too compelled
self indulgence, has not as of yet been dispelled
eventually, unbeknownst, melancholy will take hold
no longer with your excuse, why was I never told?

Life is just too short, your own accomplishments are as of yet still few
how many wonderful things in life, they await, for no one but you
open your mind and your heart to see how much there is yet to do
happiness, you'll ultimately realize, is the only thing that's really true