Love is a Possession

Walking on broken glass,
Isn't it the same as love?
My mind wondering this at last,
Where candy hearts of Dove
Are passed around in mass.

Since when is love possessions?
Is compassion simply out of fashion,
Where now there's simply no confession,
Where being late is a crime of passion.

Chocolates and Roses
Big balloons and Teddy Bears,
People simply turn their noses,
If you bring nothing to be called theirs.

So once in awhile we see,
That human kind is not as it seems,
Where we are like the French marquis,
And love is only found in our happiest of dreams.

Because Love is simply a trophy possession...