I don't know what is what
He speaks of love
But I only detect lust
Sure there are women that you could turn to because of proximity
But maybe they don't provide the allure I do...
Maybe this is just a foolish conquest of a traumatized young black women looking for some sort of genuinety...
Validation...
Comfort...
After spending these early adult years alone
So I rack my brain observing both sides and I come up with no definite conclusion
So then I write. Vent. And consumed in uncertainty for my heart's welfare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well written poem. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks