Poem XI.

Love is like

Living in

A hurricane

Prone area.

You have to

Wait for the

Storm to

Pass by.

Once it

Is over,

You have

To go

Out and pick

Up the

Debris of

The random

Obstacles.

You also

Have to

Find and

Help patch

Up the hearts

Of those

Who were lost,

Who were hurt,

Who were dead,

And find them once again.

You have to

Wait outside

Of the storm,

And wait for the rainbow.

But sometimes....

The rainbow....

Never comes.