Love never make mistakes

Wake up, get up in morning,
stiff and sore and groaning.
Start day by meet the image
in the bathroom mirror.

You told me I’m your destiny.
Poor man, I say!

But that’s not your view.

What is in a lover’s eye? And
what is love? Is it blindness
over time revealed?

Love never make mistakes.
Loving eyes are never wrong.

The lover see your true self,
and all what is good in you.

But I’m imperfection outer
and inner, I can only strive
to be and become what
love see in me.

White rose in front of white background

This entry was posted in Living with chronic pains, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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