There has always been confusion,
And even disillusion.
What is love?
Is it what we feel, or what we show?
I guess no one will ever really know.
Some try one, some try the other,
It’s always different for one another.
There’s no right or wrong way to love,
It’s about finding who fits you like a glove,
About melding into one from two,
About who brings out the best in you.
There has always been confusion.
We don’t know what love really is;
Most overlook the illusion,
But you don’t truly understand until you’re his.

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