Love Sonnet From A Misanthrope

They look at me strangely when I defame
Love, though the pain, heartache and agony
Seem more than enough to destroy love’s name.
I guess I can’t see what the others see.

What is love? A burning need, a desire
For someone else to fill an empty place
In your life - that, or love might be a fire:
Lures you with warmth before scorching your face.

Love - craving another who will pretend
For you, and say what they think you want to
Hear. All this just so their own need will end
With the same aimed at them, thanks to you.

Love, then, cannot be for the likes of me
For I’ve succumbed to misanthropy.