Love's ugliness to the roses of sweet,
Claiming you as an only need,
A beast to sweet nothings; it has to feast,
I sprained my ankles; at the too many times love
swept me off my feet.

Violets painted in a colour of violence,
Stealing a heart; by a bandit's right handed
silence,

Patience my love; all of your ends are priceless,
Driving myself into you without the licence,
But there's so many types of love like this.

Love's closed fist; is a punch to a pretty face,
An open hand to follow, but with a chase,
An unruly intention, disguised in grace,
Criticism of another, at times under praise,
A good feeling at times, but at times the good
wants to misbehave.

Still...

It's of beauty; behind a world's cruelty,
Wishing you all the best. Well usually,
Continually chasing a love to fool me,
A nut of sorts; love would ***** me.

Longing for love; when you've felt unloved,
Longing for feelings; never been touched,
Longing for hands; the last been clutched,
Longing for speed; hoping to get that rush,
Darling I must love you too much.