So You Want Hear About Love
Well I want to see it.
I heard it had died.
What a bastard I am for not going to Love's casket side to mourn.
Died far back,
After seeing people did not matter to us knowing them.
I will pay my respects but I have never been to good at eulogies.
I cannot tell you in words what it meant.
Not that 'I' had it to lose
Never had it to miss.
My remembrance of it vague.
Stayed drunk through the most of it.
A whore down the road swore she had seen it
But that was some cheap drug fueled beast she witnessed.
The man who makes up for his lack of looks
Only by having an abundance of asininity,
and money, thought he had grasped it
Turns out he found the residue of what once was a decorous female.
All he had left was the fetid framework of where her soul had once been.
I know what you call Love
But you never had it to know it by the look.
It died before we got to see Love's incandescent glow.
Before we felt Love's ardor come close to our skin.
For the best anyway I am cold enough as it is.
poem by Raechael Woodroof
Added by Poetry Lover
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