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Hilary Martin's blog

Love is in the polluted air


	You can see it, feel it, and do it Like it, love it, miss it, or hate it Make it disappear from being seen, but never from being felt. It happens many times broken hearts, faded memories, but they eventually all come back this thing called love is polluting the air in which we breath, and I am letting this happen because to me love is great; love is the ultimate The power and the scent where love is sweeping people off their feets Making them dream big, and live happy and die in peace. *Written by Hilary Martin* Submitted by Hilary Martin