The Real Love rose...
If i am, a real, natural born poet,
Long-lost, in this world, as a singular dreamer,
So, endlessly, wandering, in quest, that, upset,
Despite all, i know, that, somewhere, is, the one flower...
Alas, up to now, just been, at cross-purposes,
So, except, wasting, unfruitlessly, time, with fakes,
I have kept, jailed, in narcissistic, hidden, faces,
Who, under cover of love roses, have been, snakes...
From now on, i won't delude myself, anymore,
Nor, keep drowning sorrows, in dirt-cheap, snacking time,
In so far as, naturally, i am not for...
Thus, i, will, keep looking for, the one, soulmate rhyme,
And, however painful, i will, never, let down,
Even if, noone, knows, where, Real Love, has been sown...
(C) Tenebrio August 11, 2015 at 5 : 15 P.M...
