What does it mean to love?

Is it an opportunity to make?

Or a risk we take?

Is it like talent we are born to know? 

Or a skill obtained as our hearts learn to grow?

A number of things one can sum it to

And a few common to you

A chore

It entails one not always right

The crown share of the course 

Requires, but some

Who can see beyond plight

Whose decisions are not random

'Cause of fright

An occupation, so common

Yet, unknown

Very approachable

Still, impersonal

Despite unending translation

Little a man has an understanding

Talk more qualification

A duel, that requires of one

To be weak, though, strong

Meek when the other is wrong

It makes dumb of even the smart ones

And is no respecter of status 

All must work hard to earn a living

From this inevitable table

Unless those that refrain

But for those that remain,

Their dish is either a delicacy or disservice

Many struggling to finish their meal

Because it desires good cook

Just a pair! The perfect group

'Cause too many spoil the soup

This job, popularly taught

Countless stories

Yet I number the experts.

I guess in this case, Experience is not so much a great teacher

Or maybe, like the students, he just never really liked the subject.

Have you ever considered the subject of love?

How does this poem resonate or contrast with your view?