if they love you...

a little something i wrote for my English class.

Love in vein is like a purple flower sitting on a hilltop on a summer day with the wind and the rain and the lighting all pounding on it, welting its beauty. What is love some ask? Love is kind, love dose no keep track of sins and past wrong doings. Love is fragile like the tip of a needle. It can sew blankets together as well as torn flesh. As the rain came down faster it almost looks like a fog, clouding the sight of the little purple that was left after the storm. We are hurt, and we hid ourselves to never feel that pain again. But what does a life know only this. That pain is your ruler, your master and you live according to it. It is not a life, it is not an existence. Then one day the sun will come back out from its hiding place and bring that flower back up from its ruins. It will make it even more wonderful than it was before. This is love. If they say they love you, are they willing to stand in that awful storm with you and protect you? Will they be there the next day to bring you back up from you ashes?