love is fickle and man made
it was meant to rot and fade
meant to torture blind young souls
capture, hinder, and cajole
love is burning love is cold
tucked sedately into folds
nothing more than milk to spoil
slick and thick and black with oil
a hinderance, a failure
emotion raw and talored
a bridle for unbroken spirit
ride it, bite it, give it, fear it
love is not but hurt to me
save your kindness
leave me be
Author notes
This was a little depressing. I just couldn't write about something mushy today, so I decided to be dark with this one. Though, like you said, my muse held tightly to hand.
A contest entry
- What Is...? 10/20 by Gypsie Ink.
450 points, ended June 20, 2008, 19 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Blarg?
Comments
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Emotional!
It may have been dark, but it was written well. We must go where our Muse takes us and never sorry for it. I really like the write. Thank you for entering and Best of luck!
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