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The Honest Love
The Honest Love
What is the strongest love of sorts?
The love of brothers?
The love of sports?
No, no, of course not,
But it is certainly a love for other.
Is it between men and women?
Or the same?
Then where is their arguing to blame?
Love is something stronger than this classic approach,
Marital love can be very morose.
Is it the love of a man for his faith?
Surely he truly hath to saith,
But there will always be those who doubt,
If there are gods at all,
But who am I to shout?
It it the love a a leader and his friends?
The friends who donate their will to his power?
Those who support, all odds and ends,
Loyalty can be fickle,
Just like the reaper's sickle.
Is it the love for us and our home?
The place where peace doth foam?
Home can be anywhere,
On the ground,
Or in the air.
The love that speaks truest to me is the love of our creator,
That of the mother,
The typical raiser,
It pains me to think I took it for granted,
All the love that she hath planted.
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I lost my mother at a young age, although I truely dedicate this poem to my grandomther.