He plays love


  • Lost Love
  • ,
  • Life

    He plays love

    He plays love

    He writes the sweetest love lines
    upon each perfect paper
    He sits at his table with a glare
    from the screen he hides behind
    as a daily routine

    As you descend upon the stairs
    The sound of the clicking mouse
    and cruelty of words
    resonate from his mouth
    into the living room air

    He speaks of discontent
    accusing you of all his insecurities
    As you wait and wonder
    Where the love poet
    disappeared to
    As you stop at his feet and stare

    Living in your cyberspace world
    One can be most anything
    A romantic poet
    Capturing the hearts of girls

    When faced with real life
    on the outside of your internet page
    You glance all around
    readying for wars to wage

    Past hurts, crack on your heart
    dents in your soul
    Your glass half empty
    The lives you (touched) altered
    have taken it’s toll

    With so many broken hearts
    left upon your trail
    It is time to stop the sabotage
    and the self betrayal

    Living real life on the outside world
    following the dirt lined path
    living a life of a loners existence
    should be what you seek
    instead of the quest to be
    “A gentle man”


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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    carolw’s Poems (21)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Afterthoughts 0
    He plays love 0
    The Return 0
    Remaining Embers 0
    Restless 0
    Celestial Presence 0
    Effortlessly 0
    Grateful 0
    INSIDE 0
    Inherited Gene 0
    My Love 0
    Silence 0
    Pieces of Peace 1
    Heartsong 0
    Abyss 1
    Breathe 1
    Wander 0
    Her Garden 0
    A Long Walk 0
    Castle 3
    My dance 1