Poetry

     I wrote a poem... Yes, I write poetry. And never more than now. They are my little lovelies. Little pieces of my soul escaped as they are artistically written down. I don't share my poems with many people. Hardly anyone, really. But I'm pretty sure no one reads this blog, and I like this particular poem. It's tragic and flippant at the same time with silly similes. As I said, no one reads this (how can you when I never post anything? ;P ) but I suppose that maybe one day my children will, so I hope you enjoy it. And though distraught this poem may be, that is not where I would wish you to focus your emotion. I never wish to dwell on depressing things, but unfortunately, in this world they do happen, and sometimes often. What better way to handle sadness than with silly? What better way to cope with let down than with laughter. It really is what I appreciate about this poem. So I hope you will grin as you read it instead of frown.

 

Love Is Not Mine

Love is not mine, it belongs to everyone else.

No matter how I window shop, or stare at it on the shelf.

I never could afford

To buy it at the store

It always seems to be for me much, much more

Than I can ever find in my pockets.

So it never could belong to me.

Besides, it seems I have the wrong currency

To be able to get what I need in me

-Love

Love- It's someone else's underwear,

And I was misdirected during handouts, so now I'm bare.

Now it's too late and there's no more there.

Just like me, it's single, but they call it a pair

Even though it remains alone.

It's something that's inappropriate to borrow, 

 And that won't come today or tomorrow,

Or no matter how long I wait.

It's a tall, tall wall with a bolted, padlocked gate.

And no rope for me to climb.

So I'm scaling like Wesley

Up these rocks solely and expressly

To find my Buttercup.

Will an empty wrapper be enough?

Cause I think someone has already eaten it.

Pour salt on the torn up package in hopes to try and sweeten it.

A tight, tight dress with no zipper so it can never fit.

Love- It's not mine.

I walked 18 blocks to buy it at the five and dime,

But they said I needed shoes.

I ran and hurried back only to be given the news

That they were the last store sold out on the discontinued product.

Never restocking, and I'm straight outta luck.

Take a hike, and by the way, you suck!

That's all I get of love.

C'est ma vie, c'est ma vie,

Yes, that's all I get for me.

C'est ma vie, it's just for me.

Yes, c'est ma vie, just for me 

it's always only lonely.