I know this romance is dead
I cannot seem to bury it just yet
I keep reflecting back to when it was alive and full of life
Trying to figure out what were the symptoms
And if treating it with life supporting equipment
Would it have lengthened
When all the vital signs are gone
The caring, caressing and love thoughts in action
It's a true sign that artificial simulation
Will not keep this romance a main attraction
When something is artificial and simulated
No one really gets any satisfaction
When a conversation becomes
Too few words
When a hello becomes
A whisper
When a touch becomes
As light as a feather
When a stare becomes
Only a glance
It's a true sign the romance
Does not stand a chance
Bury it, and bury it deep
It's truly the death of a romance
Because the hearts no longer beat
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
