Love is a waste of time
if you pick up a flower,
caress it tenderly,
kiss its soft petals,
smell its odor and the morning dew,
examine it in the bright light,
only to throw it on the ground,
and trample it with your feet.
Love is a waste of time,
if you stare at her picture,
imagine bright lights,
soft pillows and cold nights,
and you utter her name,
but she does not know yours,
and you have not even met,
in the past nor in your dreams
Love is a waste of time,
if you ignore the one who loves
the smell of your cheap perfume,
the aura of presence,
and just the way you are.
But you look at somewhere else,
avoid meeting her eyes.
And you are proud of it!
Love is a waste of time
if it's not reciprocated,
because you want a return
more than what you gave.
And you count the costs and the hurts.
But you didn't do anything, did you?
Except watching the stars,
fall one by one every night.
