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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Love and its essence

Submitted: January 07, 2015

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Submitted: January 07, 2015

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Why do we love?

 

Right now, at this very moment I have no one, nobody. There is no one for me, so it seems, I sit in silence with a TV and movie, alone I wake, alone I sleep, alone I die. Why me? So alone, so alone by myself. Is it fate, is it destiny, is it meant to be? Is there someone out there waiting for me as I wait for she, is there? Perhaps I don’t deserve anyone, perhaps I don’t. But perhaps I do, then where is she! Why must I wait, why must I suffer, why do all walk around happy and aroused, yet I walk alone miserable and in gloom, alone I walk the streets and concert halls and alone I walk the earth, yet a relationship? Fuck a relationship, why so I can be told what I can and cannot do, so I can feel guilt about looking towards another woman, so I can be doomed why she dies, sad when she leaves, and bored when she is not around. Is not selfish of me to want someone to control my needs to control my boredom, my bravado? Is it not senseless of me to want someone to cure my appetite of lust to hold and to be held when time is slow? Is it not senseless of me to want my needs fulfilled when I want them but to have them disappear when I want them so? Alas! This is why I am alone; so conflicted to move by my own treacherous thoughts that I am neither derived nor received by beauty but deceived by thought. Oh my, oh me! My poor dreaded heart does shine thick in mud, deep in the dirt, yet my love, my love sits upon the wind.

Why do we love?

 

Right now, at this very moment I have no one, nobody. There is no one for me, so it seems, I sit in silence with a TV and movie, alone I wake, alone I sleep, alone I die. Why me? So alone, so alone by myself. Is it fate, is it destiny, is it meant to be? Is there someone out there waiting for me as I wait for she, is there? Perhaps I don’t deserve anyone, perhaps I don’t. But perhaps I do, then where is she! Why must I wait, why must I suffer, why do all walk around happy and aroused, yet I walk alone miserable and in gloom, alone I walk the streets and concert halls and alone I walk the earth, yet a relationship? Fuck a relationship, why so I can be told what I can and cannot do, so I can feel guilt about looking towards another woman, so I can be doomed why she dies, sad when she leaves, and bored when she is not around. Is not selfish of me to want someone to control my needs to control my boredom, my bravado? Is it not senseless of me to want someone to cure my appetite of lust to hold and to be held when time is slow? Is it not senseless of me to want my needs fulfilled when I want them but to have them disappear when I want them so? Alas! This is why I am alone; so conflicted to move by my own treacherous thoughts that I am neither derived nor received by beauty but deceived by thought. Oh my, oh me! My poor dreaded heart does shine thick in mud, deep in the dirt, yet my love, my love sits upon the wind.


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