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Love of a kind
Oh poetry, my servant these many years,
You have seen me make love to a woman
I don't love, go through all the motions, say
All the right things, make all the right noises,
Ring all the right bells, and then lay back-to-
Back as if nothing happened 'til morning.
This is a sad love, but it is love, a love like
So many other loves living on the same street.
Love hiding behind curtains, lip-service love,
Goin' nowhere love, tired love, washed-out love;
But it’s still love of a kind, and there's so much
Of it. There is however, a balance to be had,
She doesn't love me either so we're quits -
Doesn't make it easy or right though.
False love, dead love, burnt-out love, who'd have
thought such a thing could happen, when only a
handful of years back she was a beautiful doll with
Eyes to die for, legs that went on forever, and so
Pretty I nearly had a heart attack when she said
I don't know where love went wrong, no use asking
Friends though, they're all in the same boat…
© Joseph G Dawson