I’m in my late thirties now and in all these years I have never felt loved.
Which has me now asking the question when will I be loved?
Will I be loved before all my hair turns completely grey?
Will I be loved before the sun sets this very day?
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Love is a stranger. He comes and goes. He has his own rules when he will come and go. And he changes his rules to his own discretion. Often times Love comes when we aren't looking for him.