His heart was stone but his hands were warm
And a false sense of security would soon arise
But a feeling, a premonition, plagued me
Still, I accepted his lies and ignored my mind.
When I woke up
I was disconcerted by the truth
And taken aback
By how much of me he had managed to steal
And there was not a person to blame but myself
What we had was a caricature
A parody of what love could be
And all that I can ascertain
From this failed bout of love,
From this relationship of only lust,
Is that this story is cliché
And it is on a constant loop for all of us
And we're stuck
Like a broken record player
We'll still approach love maladroitly
Until we'll learn that love has no boundaries
And we leave behind all senses of propriety,
And social acceptability
YOU ARE READING
So Human
Poetryso human it hurts rankings in poetry: #396~ 9/08/16 #312~10/10/16 #204~10/12/16 #169~10/16/16