love
what of
love
love
i know
nothing of
i know not
the signs of
nor the designs of
the why for
the where of
how to try for
nor the the care of
i know not
how to begin love
nor be in love
never shown love
never known love
was never loved
nor ever loved
love
what i know of
love
is that i know of
no love
copyright 2017
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Thursday, May 3, 2018
were i but the poorest poet be
were i but the poorest poet be
with what words would i not
attempt to paint a portrait of thee
the bountiful beauty of your lot
with what words would i try to trace
every delicate delightful detail
and form of your perfect fine fair face
yet i fear mere words would only fail
to yield a picture of your perfection
wanting words would not but flaw
and blemish your beauty upon reflection
worthless words would not begin to recall
what God created with such grace
your most immaculate and so beautiful face
©2017
these things i know
these things i know
that love has left
and gone long ago
i have not the hope
for life nor love
i could never reach
nor ever rise above
these chains that bind
torment and torture me
hold me fast firm and confined
to my hideousness
and deformity
©2017
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