A relationship is a second hand affair
Where you have to depend on
Somebody, outside you,
For it's mere existence.
It is just like an infatuation,
Another tendency, purely second-hand,
When you crave for possession
Of somebody in reality
By one form or the other.
But love is always independent,
Thus, obviously first hand,
A joyous flowering, inside heart,
For someone
Who may not even know of it.
Love is a true self exhilaration
And right for an unabated growth
Of bright green
And thereby, celebration of one' own
Freedom of spirit
Without dependence of any type
On any damn one.
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