To Lovers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

a poetry to all who love just knowing the pain that comes when it ends.

What is life unlived?

There's waste within that gift.

`What days of waste, but another's distaste.

Not mine's whats not yours,

but all works in due course.

You'll have what you need,

no hint of beg or true sign of need.

At least, that would be, what it is you percieve.

I look for no true loves.

Earth has no angelic dove.

I reek of all truths,

as I've seen with no end,

what love makes you do,

how you break and you bend.

Ever lived love? It's a dream, and there is no such thing.  It's all a mere scheme, to keep you serene.

I once lived on that dream, as a love and a team.  Now here's what I deem, love's unfit to be seen!

My glory and truth require no kiss nor a hug.

My signs are white crows, and crimson black dove.

It's for this waste,

There's a life you can live.

Be gone with your other,

and the attention you'll give.

I'll waste not my life,

so fooled for the strife.

In fact I'll be wise,

saving others from lives.

It requires faith, from my start to your end,

though it's my way out, no pain I will mend.

I see one way out, oh no pain I will mend.

You require love, but suichis a false trend.

How do we fix this life, strife, and wife?

I'll tell you my friend, how to form less strife in life.

One moment now please, as I sharpen my knife.

Submitted: February 10, 2010

© Copyright 2022 Jonathin Dreary. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Pirate Bug

Wow. This is really good. I love how you wrote it. Really good....MPB

Mon, February 22nd, 2010 7:49pm



Thank you though. One of my own favorites too.

Tue, February 23rd, 2010 4:49pm

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