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|The Riddle Of The Broken Heart by Heromaniaa: 6:42pm On Jan 18, 2016|
I just resumed poem writing after several years in hibernation. I wrote this last night and felt that I should just quit poetry all together ... comrades should I? What do you think!?
RIDDLE OF THE BROKEN HEART
What we never were and what we would've become
Are like gyrating pastors
And campaigning politicians
They are one and the same
And quite distinct
Like the front and back
Of your palm.
In between this overflowing
River of botched expectations
Lie the tombstones of betrayed hopes.
White washed by lies
Of bloody spokesmen;
pipers of seductive loins
Let tabloids document
While I bemoan my heartbreak.
My lover built me
a castle of promises
And left it swinging in the charged air
Now it has crashed between us
We stand at both ends of the debris
Our hopes have collided
And taken divergent routes
Like public funds and basket of tithes.
What do women want?
That politicians steal?
And preachers lure me to give God?
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