R.I.P. (Radical. Immortal. Poetry.)

So-called Love

I can hear music when you call my name,

It's rare but it always feels the same.

I wish I could frame it, for me to look,

At everything about me that you took.

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All the stories and poems I've read,

Sometimes are sad and filled with dread

But I hope the happy endings are all that we are,

and happy beginnings will bring us even far.

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I write this poem to you to let you know,

That Even though life sometimes is rife with sorrow,

we can endure it together and rise above,

because for each other, we have this so-called love.

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Feb. 14 2015