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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