What is love Nothing but a myth of the mind It is the fault of Cupid and his kind That this love is so hard to find. It is not within the soul body nor mind When I hear of Cupid I think of a true mastermind. We roam the world looking for it without realising we are blindΒ He shot us with his ***** arrow and turned us into mankind.
This poem is rather personal I am a person who does not believe in true love or the existence of 'the one', I believe a lot of people confuse falling in love with falling in lust.