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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