Now You Call This Living?

Now You Call This Living? prose poem

Photo by karta229477

Now you call this living
But what is living without loving
And what is love but a verb
Nothing more than a misconstrued word,
Taken out of context by the world.

We all strive for happiness
And society tells us “love” is the foundation
But they’ve sealed it in an unobtainable jar

in which we labeled “expectations”
and placed it on a pedestal so high it gets lost within the stars.

And although I did come from a broken home. And everyone I’ve ever known 
eventually ends up alone.

I still had high hopes.

Hopes that love was not a lie.

I’d find the brightest star each night
Make a wish and close my eyes,
Send it to the sky above
Wishing someone would prove my theory wrong about love.

But I’ve been proven right again.

The truth is that love is dead
As are the stars in the sky
The 2nd star to the right was my wishing star,
And inevitably it too
Like all the others,

Burned out tonight.

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