I got to thinking about love, and how you can put it out there, but there’s no guarantee that it will be returned. How it can, and has, been trampled on, thrown out and shattered, how it goes through a lot of pain and suffering for others, and how it’s like two things:
- A flower – carefully nurtured, blossoms and grows, but will eventually wilt and die and be thrown out
- A vase that you carefully design and create, but nobody wants and is thrown on the floor and shattered
So, I decided to write a poem about it:
Love is a glorious thing, they say
It’s exhilarating and exciting every day
Well, it must be in their dreams
We must be looking at different things, it seems
Love is cold
And it’s bold
You put your heart on display
And hope that no-one takes it away
And twists it, stabs it
Breaks it in two
Rejects it, throws it out
Just like you do
It’s beaten, mocked
Thrown in a cellar and locked
Away to save it from the cold embraces
And the mocking faces
It’s a cracked vase
Just a phase
That’s shattered
And then thrown away
You hold it out to others
Who walk over it and smothers
Your burning flame
With terrifying aim
So, love is cold
And used and abused
And then it’s told
To go away
Because it has no place to stay
Preview of an upcoming book of mine titled My Cracks And Crevices: A Collection of Poetry. Coming out next month.
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