Someone once told me;
"it's so magical to fall in love,"
And that they could never spell the words.
But love is also made up of a few tricks.
A disappearing act, when those lovey dovey
feelings don't last.
A play of hand, to lose touch of yourself,
A flip of the card asking,
"was this your love all along"
And with a flash of my wand; let's pretend all
those arguments are gone.
"Who cares whether you were right, and I
was wrong," pulling out the bunny out of the hat;
to play innocent.
_Tell me where did it even come from?_
But I don't hate love, just it's many magicians.
Painting a bad picture of love, to a blind eye.
The crowd awes and cheers, not noticing
what's truly behind. But I've seen behind the trick;
of love's bad side.
Still love is magical, I suppose to those
who can't see further, but just the dot on
the tip of their nose. But who really knows;
until you've been exposed to the feeling.
Where often morals go, and no remorse flows.
_I guess that's what makes love so magical?_
Mar 2, 2022
Mar 2, 2022 at 11:53 AM UTC
Someone once told me;
"it's so magical to fall in love,"
And that they could never spell the words.
But love is also made up of a few tricks.
A disappearing act, when those lovey dovey
feelings don't last.
A play of hand, to lose touch of yourself,
A flip of the card asking,
"was this your love all along"
And with a flash of my wand; let's pretend all
those arguments are gone.
"Who cares whether you were right, and I
was wrong," pulling out the bunny out of the hat;
to play innocent.
_Tell me where did it even come from?_
But I don't hate love, just it's many magicians.
Painting a bad picture of love, to a blind eye.
The crowd awes and cheers, not noticing
what's truly behind. But I've seen behind the trick;
of love's bad side.
Still love is magical, I suppose to those
who can't see further, but just the dot on
the tip of their nose. But who really knows;
until you've been exposed to the feeling.
Where often morals go, and no remorse flows.
_I guess that's what makes love so magical?_
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