Far too many
Poems about love.
Not nearly enough,
Poems about life.
But they say,
Love is life;
And what do
I even know?
I am far
Too cynical, to
Let love show.
Far too gloomy,
To let love
Through me; flow.
Far too practical,
To write about
My broken heart.
Far too stoic;
To let love,
Break me apart.
But I wish…
How I wish…
Love really was,
All there is,
To this life;
But this life,
Just is; all
That it is…
This life, is
Nothing to love;
Or to hate.
This life, in
All its glory;
This life, in
All its sorrow;
This life, in
All its pain;
This… life ….in…
All its waiting,
All its wanting;
All its having,
And not having;
And then winning,
And then losing;
And in finally,
Not having again.
This life, in
All of that;
Is nothing, to
Love or hate.
This life
is,
To get
and
Then let,
go…
But I guess,
You just write
About love instead.
That’s all right.
You gotta keep
Busy, some way;
Until you’re dead.
© Jay Kaushal
Absolutely beautifully said………………thank you for sharing your gift with others.
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Thanks a lot for this beautiful comment Wendi. I dont know how I never replied to your comment. I’m pretty sure I did. I think it’s just this WP app that I use. Sometimes, replies don’t get published. Sometimes comments don’t get approved. That is why i changed the settings to auto approve. Sorry.
Thanks a lot again. 🙂
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