True love can never die, not even when
Your partner tells you they’ve been unfaithful,
They’ve lost your money in a gambling den
And lost a limb or two in some awful
Mishap. Perhaps your love would collapse? Full
Of dashed ambition, rash derision’s flung
At your ex-love. Excellent sex life? Skull-
Like. Dead. Sacked: abject failure, nailed or hung
Out to dry, though subject of love songs sung
Yesterday. Pestered, scorned, vilified; then
Replaced, officially forgotten. Mull
This over. If your ‘love’ was ever strung
From the lamp-post of imagination,
Then you were just as (or more) untruthful.
Thur 22 Mar 2007
No comments:
Post a Comment