Because It Hurts A Little Bit

Under trees we shelter
love can sometimes grow
and blossom like the flowers
that appear in spring.
Love can grow anywhere
when cupid leaves his card
in the shape of an arrow
that pierces our heart.
We know not when he will do it
or with whom.
We know when he does it
because it hurts a little bit.

19 July 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!