Love A Mortal Who Writes
This be a farce dictation.
But then,
Love a being who writes
Because a writer
Is a liar.
I will lie about how the
Night flames with the warm waters
But you will never believe me
For I am a liar
With a pen and a paper.
Love a writer
For a writer is a soldier
Regardless of state:
A drunken soldier.
An arrogant soldier.
A morose soldier.
A burning soldier.
Whichever.
Love him
For he is a liar.
He is a prolix garden
Of petty things.
He makes the moon an empire,
And the Sun, an asylum.
He will lie about certain things
With sheer beauty
That none of you
Can contain.
Why love a liar, you might ask?
Listen to a painter as he lies
And he will guise himself with
A shallow palette of colors.
Listen to a businessman lie,
And he will be easily defeated
In a warfare of witticism.
Listen to a doctor lie
But then again, science cannot
Feign states or even a love.
And you can think of any other
Occupation that holds a lie,
And I will tell you
[...] Read more
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Added by Poetry Lover
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