#165

Commodity

Duplicitous feelings covered with bullshit’s mask

Flirtatious banter, soothing the ego of slattern’s want.

Treated with careless abandon, walls in place for years

Girls, fickle, wanting light and hope but relishing their ego driven

Hell. Old scars itching, withdrawal seems nigh

Preserve the emotional peace, none to risk the unknown,

Cowards of life.  Better to fall back to a lust filled hell,

The egoistic farce?  Guarding the oft burned and shattered heart

From careless fancies of fucks and argument’s fervor.

Love is tapping, lightly on the door… whispers,

“Can I come inside for a while?” Surface seems sure to

The uninitiated; to the blind. Folly.  Sorrow’s walk,

That familiar road, is overgrown with love abounding.

A glimpse of light, of true love made real, perhaps

They cannot deal with the power of love. Seeking only

The lust fulfilled.  One cannot tarry on a road of

Backtracking fancies, there is nothing new to see or hear.

A cyclical hell, depression made real.  Love is but a glimpse,

A memory left by road not traveled.  Love’s mission never dies,

Only the players change sides.  Wanted and sought,

Beggared and bought, love is not a commodity.

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