Sunday, November 28, 2021

poem

 Asking for the World

Life can be pretty unjust,

Let’s admit, for the truest love

Shouldn’t have such a steep cost


Not all my actions are easy to defend.

But is it fair, all I’ve lost

And all I had to spend?


I can pretend to be the man

Happy and content with his given lot,

Who buries his sorrows in a can


In a fetid backyard plot

So everyone knows he’s a good man

Who owns the things he has bought.


But once you’ve tasted true love

All wine is spoiled with the brine

Of your own self-shed blood.  


This seems to be the end of the line,

Where you raise a glass to olive eyes,

Make a toast to everything being fine.


I never asked for the world

Just her eyes, just her touch.


Love needn’t be free

But ought not cost so much.


11/28/21

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