Disclaimer – Fushigi Yugi does not belong to me.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
He ignores me at day,
Yet sees no one but me at night
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
He tells me his secrets in the dark,
And kisses her in the light.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
He comes to me for love,
Yet, tells that girl that he loves her.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I hate it when he seduces me,
But I love him even more when he does.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I try not to love him,
But I can't stop myself.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
He never shows any compassion,
Yet, I feel all of his emotions.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I hate when he speaks truth,
But my heart breaks even more when he lies.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I hat it when he is not there in the morning,
Yet, I am glad he is not there to see my tears.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I hate it when he walks away from my voice,
Yet calls me to do his bidding.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I do not understand why,
But I still follow him.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I sometimes wish to know whether he cares,
But I will break if I do.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I cannot see why he leads us to battle,
Yet, I am going with him.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
He could've have deflected that,
I know.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
It struck me—paining me,
Yet, I smiled at him.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
His face contorted in pain,
As his arms caught my bleeding form.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
He was horrorstruck,
But I still told him to live.
His love is like orange juice.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
I touched his face one last time,
Before my breath left me.
His love is like orange juice.
May it be bitter, may it be sweet.
But it will always be there.
That I know.
(A/N): Okay. This is a poem I wrote about a year ago that I decided to post. The last few verses are a bit jumbled, but I tried to fix them without losing the original composition. So enjoy. Reviews are welcome.