What a contradiction.
Will you still love me,
When my hair loses thickness?
When my skin starts to wrinkle?
When my youth is but memory in the distance?
Cruel to the appearance.
Yet kind to the mind.
Stripping away my pride in my looks,
To expose an endearment for the memories I share with you.
Love is not lust.
And lust is not love.
So do you choose a beautiful person,
Or someone blessed solely with looks from above?