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.
Hitchhiker 