Immature Love

A spark ignites, a heart takes flight, In moments quick, it feels so right. But fleeting as the morning dew, Immature love is fresh and new. It races fast, it burns so bright, Unsure of wrong, unsure of right. It clings with hope, yet slips away, Like summer sun at close of day. It dreams of more, but fails to see, The depth where love is meant to be. A love that’s tender, full of grace, But struggles in its youthful pace. Still, in its bloom, it holds a charm, Unaware of future harm. For even in its briefest glow, It teaches hearts to feel, to grow.