How sad, that the ideal man
has become a broken soul
thinking that the seductiveness
of a woman is all he needs.
How sad then, that the ideal woman
has now become a subject to
what the men need, thinking that
seductiveness is what makes a man
smile from his feet.
How sad, that she now thinks
because of the broken soul of a man
that she needs to get nude for him
for her to feel a place inside his heart.
How sad then, that the woman
becomes what she is not,
but what she thinks she needs to be.
How sad then, that the only thing on her mind
is kisses and highs,
From a love she thinks is right,
but in truth becomes a fight,
between the woman and her body,
thinking she needs a waist so tight
for him to sleep with her at night.
As a man I say this,
to the one I will find,
Show me your intelligence,
Show me your intellect,
Let us remind each other,
that love does not mean sex,
And that in truth,
you misuse a power of a significant force,
so much so, that you forget how to use
your power for the one you'll love.
A weakness is what it becomes.
And then,
the cravings of the pleasure you feel,
but not the commitment to love.
Like a dog wanting a bone, but not willing to run.
YOU ARE READING
You Who Knows Best
PoetryThis is a series of love poems written by me. "May we meet where the eye can find its rest, And where our hearts beat for each other, even outside of our breasts."
