Matchmakers
In old days parents were matchmakers
Or the aunts, or uncles, or neighbours
For the love in their hearts did the best.
They knew girl's mother; her aged shape
They knew her father; his needs, wealth.
But today everything is on line, virtual
Parents are internet; turned keyboards.
A look at an image photo-shopped
Then is turn for mailing or the text
Where to meet for coffee is a date.
At the door you see her in the chair:
"What the hell! I chose a piece of shit! "
Or reverse, about you she may say.
Therefore I admit that I love old history
I regret that we lost old trend; apology.
Never say: "Don't want your policy."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not exactly the most progressive view I've ever heard of... To each their own I suppose. I know I wouldn't want my parents picking who I can and can't date
I meant it your way but words ran faster than me...I do not mean that they forced but I suppose that is shown through the words...thanks.