In the middle of the night
I think of many things
Never coming to the conclusion
That love is a wasted emotion
Hopeful of the time
When it is respected
In the last days of winter, I look around for some signs of peer interaction. What if you are single simply because you haven’t heard the right lyrics spoken. Like the riddle that had to be cracked in order for Princess Andromeda to marry ( Clash of the Titans 1981..keep up).
Or how about you just haven’t found your peers. We dwell in the land of comfort ability, everybody knows your name scene. Never getting to the reason of their birth.
Change my name or the scene. The definition of insanity is to perform the same actions, expecting different results. The replay button has been removed, and a mental rewind button has been place. 8 track style so as to cause the development of patience.
Detailed development.
No harm no foul. Take a break and let’s all be real with ourselves:
The need to have companionship is a forced concept. True you want it. I believe it to be a beautiful thing. Keeping in mind, relationships between men and women are not just for procreation but also for edification. Not with the ideal of soul pressure being placed on one person to “entertain” the other.
Unbalanced disappointment.
Collateral and collateral damage. I look across the landscape of my generation , I watch and listen to the my surroundings. Yet, I feel compelled to hold this thing called love to a standard.
By doing that I have managed to maneuver around the debris of this life with use of copious Windex on the rearview mirror.
Respect it.
I come up for air occasionally, to keep my sanity. Reality is in 3D for those who are awake. Look around and return to the land of loveless ness.
This little light of mine.
The concept is reflected in the waves of this life and yet I have to wonder…
How long will Love be measured in human capital and not genuine relationships.
No games. No bags. No walking wounded.
Easy like Sunday Morning type interactions. That warrants a union not a time-table or formula.
me and you, your momma and your cuzin too.
Love
Nice poem. I can relate.