“Why are you so obsessed?
It’s just love — why suffer that much?”
A patient
who just had a stroke.
What do you expect them to say
but not being able to move?
I tried to feel sorry
to understand
the first time
you told me about her —
your loyal, broken
love story.
You waited for her
at the same old bus stop,
for hours,
cried under the rain.
While I cried over love
Just a few times
You called it cheap,
called it needy
That I can’t give up
sticking to it.
Guess you’ve never been dumb
for love.
Guess you never devoted
your whole heart to it.
Once in a decade
You may never fall for it
I’m not outstanding
Not your someone out there
I’m just part of the crowd
Sharing the pain
You have never felt
You gave me hope
To satisfy yourself
not your heart or soul
but your lower parts
So what the hell do you know?
…
(Once published on All Poetry)
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