Love is like a fruit that slowly awakens,
Once nature sprinkles its seeds of passion,
It blooms and reaches its final fate,
Ignoring all rules of attraction.
Slowly maturing into adult form,
Blooming scrumptiously with succulence more,
Glowing as a star shining once it’s born,
Flaming beautifully in its burning core.
Suddenly it stops.
No more can it grow.
Love, as a fruit that hasn’t been touched,
No escape but to shrink and die slow,
Holding on to that glow it once clutched,
This love fruit so alluring one may call,
Grows, lives, and dies.
Like a fruit, love falls.
© 2013 Stephanie Alfaia Gomes All Rights Reserved