POEM: LOVE AND WAR
When a man is in love,
a big mumu is born.
A new mumu is born
Or so they say…
Some run from the one they love
so that they don’t become fools again.
Fools again…
Used again.
Hurt again.
Disrespected again.
Abandoned again.
Unappreciated again.
Again?
Once bitten, two times a warrior.
Warrior, made not born.
Forged in the crucible.
Crucible. Ah, crucible!
You know that you’re being used.
You know that this is not so good.
You know they’re not doing right by you.
But you let it slide…
You don’t want to destroy
the one who you once loved.
You let them walk
Unharmed, unchallenged
You end the war
They take the spoils
You take the lessons
Never again
You run from love
Fallen man is no angel
To love the wicked
Is to expose yourself
To embrace the bloody
Is to be colored in crimson
Warriors or soldiers, yes!
But lover boys in cradles warm?
There’s no rethinking about it
Or is there?
Till God sends an angel
Then
For now, shields are status quo
Shields on, brother soul!
In wartime we don’t slumber
In zones where we don’t wreath swords
The tools of warfare are let loose
Arrows of fire
Drops of rain
Rays of light
We love as angels without wings
We hurt as angels without wings
So till God sends us angels
Even if they have no wings
You’re a lover not a fighter?
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We walk, we take spoils
Now
And I am a freaking good poet!
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