Though Love Not Requited, Forever It Stands

Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

It pierces like nails driven through the hand.
Sweet kisses of spring though winter remains.
Foolish and blinded the innocent lover stands.
How can one run free when confined in
these chains.

The art of true love,
when true love made to art?
Is that of the canvas the Mona Lisa adorns.
One day fully known, but now known in part,
The measure in which HE loves my mind
has deformed.

A tragedy maybe...a travesty without doubt.
The way that his essence enveloped my own.
'Til One day his spirit, wings of angels did sprout.
Throughout heaven and hell, my spirit did
groan.

I no longer give way to life's' requests or
demands.
Though love not requited, forever it stands.

Written by The Jazzipoetress

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