Love

A thing that not many can endure
The pressure
You treasue
Once knocked at my door

Small and brittle
My heart ripped in four
What love was for certain
I wasn't quite sure

Till you came
Love was to blame
Heart break and pain
Should i open the door i asked once more

Will i be able to
Treasure the pressure
Being able to endure
Love and further more

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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