A poem I wrote a long time ago about a boy and love. |
It's sad but true, For I don't need you. I don't need that thing called love. For love is as fickle as the doves That fly by without a care. For even they know that true love leads to despair The evidence is easy to be seen. For love was not even worth it for the Virgin Queen, Who was the product of a love that went deadly wrong. For none can love that long. I do not need you to love me good sir, For I am strong and none can demur This fact, for mine eyes has seen its fair share of hurts For the world is a pervert And loves to play games and never play by the same rules For the world is unfair, unforgiving, and simply just cruel. Many times this heart of mine has been smashed, For love and flirtations always seem to backlash And I always end up alone and ran through the mud, For not even my own flesh and blood Would stay with me and be by my side For this I will never be the blushing bride. It's sad but ultimately true, For I don't need you. I don't need that thing called love, For love is as fickle as the doves Who know that none ever get the love they deserve For love expires. So excuse me while I swerve And avoid that volatile thing called love. For even the fickle doves Know that love is a game of cards For which I have no hope to win because I am so scarred. It's sad but true, For I wish I had you, But why would you want someone like me? So please don't look at me - The way you do or how you make me - Feel so important or how you make my heart feel so free. Please just let me be, You cruel, cruel lovable man, you. |