Love is not for sale.
On food shelves it will fail.
Ruined by preservatives.
Superior to its wanton counterfeits.
Love might be found in the ghetto.
Yet, it is a product of Heaven.
May be as hot as hell.
It will rejuvenate the so dead.
Not a singe or a smell of smoke.
A fire the quenches fire.
And melts cold desires.
Not to be branded; Love is a better name.
Precious than diamonds, platinum and fame.
Marketers would make it worthless.
Judges have no true tests.
Let alone to its destiny.
There poor hearts finds it as a dream.
Blessed are those who fall in love.
They shall live beyond stardom.
By: Jude Osien
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