Salvatore Buttaci > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Sometimes we feel like the sun: powerful and yet vulnerable.

Even the mighty are toppled eventually.

What do lovers know about the moon and sun? Their eyes sparkle with stars of their own.

Ok, so it's another kiss-a-toad story. Don't knock it unless you've tried it!

Ok, so it's the old kiss-a-toad story. Don't knock it till you've been kissed by a toad!

What the heck does this nonsense mean? Who knows! Is everything in life crystal clear to any of us?

Oh, the end of love! It's a major letdown, a plunge into the mouth of a lover's hell.

There's good and bad in all of us. And we tend to seek out those with whom we are compatible.

When love dies, mourn and move on. Nobody likes a necrophiliac for a friend.

This poem speaks for itself: What we treasure in our youth becomes the albatross of our old age.