They say if love wasn't served on a silver spoon in youth,
You'd learn to lick it off a knife, uncouth.
In this life we are spooked. But how is that right, in the dead of night,
When it's the fight of our lives, in the strife,
To align and unlearn what was never a gift,
Yet we yearn to find our spirits uplift.
The next time you choose to lick love off a knife,
Cut your tongue, let it bleed, feel the strife.
Feel the pain, set it free, let it flow,
Only then can you heal, only then can you grow.
It's not easy to unlearn, to find spaces unknown,
To navigate avenues where light's barely shone.
And yet, here we are, loving even more,
So that we, in return, can love's warmth explore.
In this journey of life, where wisdom's a rare gem,
We seek to be loved, as we love, to stem
The tide of past hurts, to heal and to grow,
In the hope that our hearts, in wisdom, will glow.
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