Why do I feel this way?
I seem to love roses more than I usually do.
Often times I see them in gardens but I do not take notice of them.
Today I saw a beautiful pink rose.
For once I wanted one in a vase in my room.
I didn’t want to pick the rose I saw.
I wanted one from you.
I can’t wait to hear your voice.
I can’t wait to kiss you.
I long for you just to hold me.
But I do have to ask myself.
Is this what they call love?
Or perhaps it’s just lust.
Or are we just lost?