they take your love, and they spit on it. and throw it in your face.
and you're standing there, holding it in your hand. like this
transparent thing, with it's little heartbeat. it once was shiny and
bright. and now it's messy, dirty, weak. dull. and you wonder what
...
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Your thoughts are expressive and honestly penned. The form of this piece - and hence it's poetic clout - could be strengthen I believe by shortening the lines. Most impressive, nonetheless. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxx
treated it like that. they knew it was flawed. look at it now. that messy little thing. no wonder nobody wants it. the deep gutter is really makes pain in words
Cia, I absolutely love this poem. I've been sitting here reading and rereading your words. I love this poem. rudy
This dullness inflicted by blindness/insensitivity/ignorance/prejudice/pride/greed is the measure of their failure - an exact equivalence, a 'reflection' of their unfitness to appreciate, cherish love. I love the way you've made this important point, but I'm struggling in pursuit of a mathematical representation of what you've so cleverly done! And the survival of love, the optimistic note you've chosen to exit on, makes this a very engrossing, convincing and relevant piece of social comment poetry. jim
Keep shining, sullied star - whatis in there is infinitely more precious than the filth thrown at it by those who don't understand...