What makes it so difficult to fine love?
What makes it so hard to classify love true?
Why are there so many imperfections in the time and space?
Why are there so much differences between desires and actuality?
Why is it that you like someone whom you just met under the rain for something petering?
Why is it that your love, or is now was, gives you a call and you melt and was was, and is now is?
How has it been that you can stand up against the whole world to believe in someone you love?
How could it be that with all the cracks, you see your own good character's reflection in the other's mirror?
Love... is it that hard to find? ... No,
It's hard to love someone with love true.
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