Why should I come to you,
With my heart in my hands,
Only for you to take it from me,
And pull on my heart strings,
Making me,
A puppet of love.
Why should I look to you,
To see your face,
Only for you to turn it from me,
Your beauty is so intense,
Making me,
A sucker for love.
Why should I call to you,
And give you my name,
Only for you to throw it at me,
Like a weapon of war,
Making me,
A casualty of love.
Why do I love you,
With all of my heart?
John Prowse © 2014