This poem is a shit sandwich

Love is not a finite resource;

No it isn't a resource at all.

It isn't some oil for combustion,

It's not a waterfall.

Love is a feeling

A chemical released

A guttural pull that steers you;

Love is when you say your peace.

Finding it cannot be done through excavating mines.

Love is of a splendid truth that's only at the time.

Sublime when it happens.

So here do I request,

put to rest the notion that you can consume this;

Go forth with the attitude that this holy bliss is but a gift laid ore you by the angels very hands.

It's the shard of heaven that glimmers and brightens every man.

Attune to know the difference between manipulative lust.

Love is in your heart;

Love we can trust.