Crying out to my “loved ones”,
To hear out my desperate plea once –
A prayer to let us live with love,
But all I see is that, from here above,
They can’t hear what love is.
How much longer should I expect
To wait for days you won’t reject
My idea of spending life’s moments
Amidst gifted family and friends fervent?
Can’t you see what love is?
A slight mention of the possibility
Of committing my cultivated fidelity,
To a soul they haven’t themselves sculpted,
Tells me that despite all the education fed,
They don’t care what love is.
Standing at the gates of acceptance,
Dreaming of a united existence.
It’s been ages waiting for change.
Let’s start walking back, love,
They just don’t love what love is.
I could relate with every verse of this composition.
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I’m glad the poem made you feel that way, sir. It really is one of my objectives behind writing that the reader relate to what’s written. Thank you.
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I love this. The last stanza gave me shivers.
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Thank you so much, Wise Man(key)!
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