Mostly Love

It’s me, I am the one.
I’m the one they write poetry about,
I thought it was him. But I was wrong.

I thought he was the one
to make the world seem brighter,
to make the sun shine louder.
But it was me
who called upon the rain
and caused the thunder to scream
again
and again.

I thought I would love
until there was no end,
but as they say
sometimes, love is simply love
and mostly that is never enough.

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