He had mint love for you but
it was just a blank mission
or some ill condition he had
in his heart by the pill you planted
with permission. He thought it would
grow out to be something strong
and beautiful, lasting. But the water
was weak the roots were distant
from the soil and left alone in a dark
corner so sun light wouldn't nurture it.
This ish isn’t right he thought he could
when this fight against love but love had a
cheated code to this dirty love game. He was
going for the touchdown until the interception
had played into his action. He was getting hurt
from all the love sacks and tackles. He took start
to take drugs to ease the pain away from his head
and chest, shoulder. Even sniffed a little cocaine to make
the her sweet perfume odder go away. His home team
tried to sign him up for the intervention television show.
He didn’t go just thought it would just be bad publicity.
He screams out; what’s a man to do when he wants to cry.
Just ball up like a fetus and let the ish die out and dry up
inside him, ish it out cause that's what it is what it was a
bunch of bullshit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem