A Quiet Afternoon at Home

"Let it die," the serpent says.
He means my love. I understand.
"She doesn't love you, never will."
"That isn't true. I think she does."
"And, if she does, how is that better?
What's a love which must be hidden,
Unacknowledged; at its worst, a
Constant sorrow; at its best, an
Aggravating waste of time?" "She
Needs me." "Oh? Whatever for,
To sit close-by as she complains?
Has she once asked you how you
Are, or shown the slightest interest
In anything you are or say?" "In
Fact, she hasn't." "There you go,"
He lisps beneath his hooded eyes.
"A serpent knows the world's cruel,
Lives alone, and doesn't love." "A
Human needs be with someone."
"Sentiment! You are fool." "I am,
And so are you."



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 54 times
Written on 2015-02-19 at 23:07

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