Poetry and Art

Love

What is love?
What is love to be so strange?
What is love to be deranged?
What is love to cause you pain?
Why does love come off so plain?
But...even when confusing, is it not your shield in the rain?
It comes in ways as numerous as the stars.
It comes at night, to mend broken hearts.
Though love can cause pain...
And though it is not always plain,
Love is love, and that is all that must remain.

Short and corny. I was bored so I thought why not...