Reads: 108

ask myself what really happened.

Falling in love is no longer exciting like it used be

Everyone possesses a soul that’s saddened

Poets’ pens are bleeding; poetry is not as bright as it used to be.

Poems are dark; hearts are covered with a black mist.

I wish love and pain did not coexist

As a matter of fact, I wish pain did not even exist.


The idea of love is dead, material is the new love.

Women no longer sing “always and forever, through thick and thin”

They sing “fuck love, money over everythin”

Men rap “if that bitch don’t swallow kids then that hoe fake”

We no longer sing “Give me your heart and I’ll keep it safe.”

The message Boys II Men and Teddy Pendergrass used to convey is lost

It has been erased from our mental libraries

It’s all a holocaust

The path of love is crisscrossed.

Love needs a revival, its own day of Pentecost

Because the roses of love are dead.

May the gods of love make our hearts heal so we can genuinely love again.



Submitted: April 27, 2020

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