Love does not grow on trees, Neither does it flow in the water, Nor does it flow in the air. Love’s a bug. Bites you without a notice, Injects a sweet venom to bear. Spreads through your veins. Makes you blind and insane. No shot for it, no cure. Just euphoria, A sickness with a sweet pain. Sometimes with a long wait. Once you are bit, You are done for. Cannot settle down, It’s all you strive for. Its venom is a drug, Gets you addicted for life. No side effects, Unless you suffer a heart-break. Stays in you forever, If you behave. Leaves you, Only if you are brain-dead!
A collection of my writings